


Husbandly Duties

by anxioussquirrel



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Arranged Marriage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:35:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2413496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxioussquirrel/pseuds/anxioussquirrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine have never had sex. They haven't even discussed having sex. They have been best friends for the last two years. Now they're suddenly getting married and it turns out they have very different expectations about intimacy. Dystopia AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was a fill on glee-kink-meme. The prompt said:
> 
> “Kurt and Blaine have never had sex. They haven't even discussed having sex. Now they're getting married. It's up to the filler if it's an arranged/forced marriage and they barely know each other or if they have been dating and sex just never came up.
> 
> Even though they haven't done it yet, Blaine expects that sex will be a part of their relationship. However, Kurt is a terrified, panicking baby penguin. The only thing he knows about sex is that he will never, ever want to have it.
> 
> So, on their over-the-top romantic wedding night, Kurt gets scared and comes up with an excuse not to have sex. Blaine buys it at first, but he starts to suspect something's wrong when Kurt has an excuse for every night. Kurt even starts picking fights with Blaine so he wouldn't want him sexually. Basically, Blaine is trying to have sex with Kurt and Kurt is trying to not have sex with Blaine, they both love each other and neither one wants to talk about it.
> 
> And when they finally have sex, it's fantastic for both of them. Filler can decide if they do talk about Kurt's issues beforehand or if Blaine just ties him up and has his way with him.”
> 
> I started writing it on a whim and it turned into a dystopia AU with arranged marriages. However, even if you cringe at the words dystopia, arranged marriages or baby-penguin Kurt, give this story a chance. It’s a tale about best friends, budding love and intimacy, building trust and overcoming obstacles together. There’s no dub-con/non-con and it ends happily.

It wasn’t that they had to get married. They were both under 18, after all, so the obligation didn’t apply to them yet. But it would, soon enough – mere months and they would both be adults, with all the inevitable consequences of the status. And since Kurt and Blaine had been best friends for the last two years, the topic had to surface one day, during a (very public, of course) coffee date. It was innocent at first, a little teasing, some hopes and expectations exchanged in hushed voices over forgotten cups of coffee getting cold on their usual table. They both knew, of course, that these were mostly dreams and the reality would probably be much harsher, since neither of them had a boyfriend or anyone even close to one. They’d never had. Still, it was nice to believe, even just for a moment, that somewhere before they became “available”, two princes on white steeds would come out of nowhere to sweep them off their feet and love them forever. It was all they could do; dream.

Because reality was so much less appealing. The Decree that had been in place for decades now stated that in order to avoid the “unfortunate tendency of homosexuals to live an unhealthy, sexually promiscuous lifestyle”, the law would give them what they’d fought so long for: the right to get married. With one small hitch. Every gay person, man or woman, would have a fully free choice of a partner – until they turned 18. They could get married as early as 16, but the act was irreversible; until one of the partners died or the marriage was annulled for one of a handful of reasons, there was no way to back off from the vows. The couple was legally bound to live together, and both partners were forbidden to enter any kind of “improper” relationships with other people. Pre-marital and extra-marital sex was considered a crime against the social order and punished most strictly – and not just for homosexuals; this part of the law was the same for every citizen.

So everything seemed quite good, right? Wrong. Because after a gay girl or boy turned eighteen, they were considered adults and became “available” – unless they were already married, of course. Which meant, in practice, that if anyone made a “bid” for them, they were legally obligated to marry that person. Bidding didn’t involve money; the first person to formally apply to claim an “available” person as theirs was granted permission to marry them. There were certain restrictions set in place after the mess that had been the first years after the Decree had come to life – slavery, incest and taking teenagers as sex toys, to name a few – so now the bidding was restricted to similar age groups and the bids were checked carefully before being authorized, but the fact remained that it was basically forced marriage. Of course, it may have served the social order, but the reality of such unions was sad. There were miraculous exceptions, certainly, but usually the bidding led to lifelong relationships where at least one, and often both partners were unhappy and dissatisfied with their lives.

Therefore, every teenager who was officially registered as gay – a result of series of character, personality and sexuality tests conducted obligatorily at age 11 – had one common dream: find their One True Love before they turned 18. Sometimes it happened. Often it didn’t. Kurt and Blaine didn’t have such luck.

They came back to the topic, sometimes, after that initial conversation – just casual mentions in passing, nothing too deep. The weeks were crawling by, every day bringing them closer to the two dreaded dates, not even a month apart, and slowly even Blaine’s natural cheerful disposition started to waver. He hated the looks men kept giving him in public places even more often lately – openly checking him out, with an obligatory glance to his left hand, where the rainbow tattoo around his ring finger marked him as gay and, since it wasn’t hidden under a wedding band, free to marry. He could see the lecherous grins on some faces and he felt nauseous just thinking about these strangers as potential bidders once his April birthday came and went.

Blaine didn’t consider himself classically handsome or even particularly attractive, but he tended to get people’s attention for some reason. Which could be really nice if he attracted boys who might be interesting for him too. Like maybe Jeremiah, from the GAP store. Or Paul, the barista at their favorite coffee shop. But no, of course not. They were always men in their mid-to-late twenties, and since all the interesting guys were always swept off the market within weeks, if not days after they turned 18, all the single men over twenty were seriously defective in one way or another. Not to mention, sex-crazed. The way Blaine’s imagination played with the idea almost every night lately was slowly turning him into a nervous wreck.

Which was probably the reason why one day, while doing their homework in a library with Kurt, Blaine just muttered in frustration, not even raising his head from his Social Studies book.

“Maybe we should just get married to each other.”

It was only when Kurt stared at him in disbelief that Blaine realized what he just said. Maybe they should… what? No, wait, actually… a flash of hope ran through Blaine’s mind.

“Kurt, seriously, but it could work, don’t you think? We’re best friends, we fit together, spending our lives in a relationship with each other wouldn’t be that bad, would it?”

Kurt shook his head.

“But what about love?”

Oh. Right. Blaine sometimes forgot that Kurt was an even bigger romantic than he was.

“Well, you’re my best friend, of course I love you.”

“Blaine. I love you too, but you know what I mean. What about first love, all the romance, handholding, first kisses and shy confessions-“

“Kurt, do you really believe you’ll find that in the next two months? Or that some random guy who wins you in a bid will suddenly turn out to be your big love? Besides, I can give you all the handholding you’ll ever want.”

Kurt just shook his head stubbornly and went back to his homework. Blaine sighed. It would be perfect, actually, now that he thought about it. They were really close, had the kind of friendship that didn’t happen often and Blaine knew he could trust Kurt with his life without the slightest hesitation. They’d been through a lot together, supported each other through family problems and bullying, health issues and everyday stuff. Not to mention, they were attracted to each other – he knew, they’d talked about it once.

Blaine couldn’t imagine his life without Kurt in it. And like a punch to the gut, he just realized that it would probably be his life in just over a month. Because as soon as he got married, close friendship with another man would be out of the question. His husband would have to be enough for his everything. With a new sinking feeling, Blaine looked at Kurt, wondering just how much time they had before their friendship would have to end.

 

Over the next two weeks Blaine was nothing if not persistent. He was absolutely certain by then that this was what they should do, the perfect solution. Damn, if he was honest, it was the only solution he wanted. The longer he thought about it, the less convinced he was that what he felt towards Kurt could be described by the definition of friendship alone. Was the feeling of being somehow incomplete without the other person by your side normal in all friendships? Blaine didn’t know, he’d never had such a close friend before. What about the quiet, warm contentment he felt every time he saw Kurt or even heard his voice; that affection that made him smile no matter how bad a day he was having? The way Kurt seemed to be on Blaine’s mind constantly, somewhere in the background at least? And the attraction? Oh, the attraction…

Blaine had always considered Kurt to be one of the most attractive boys he’d ever met. Not in a conventional way, but there was something breathtaking in the graceful elegance of his movements, the pale elfin beauty of his face, his eyes that seemed to change color with every emotion they reflected so perfectly. But he’d never put much thought into it before, somehow. They were friends, and somehow having Kurt as a friend satisfied every need that otherwise might have pushed Blaine into looking for a boyfriend. Well, almost every need.

He hadn’t thought about Kurt sexually. Somehow, it never even occurred to him in the heated moments in the darkness of his room when everyone was asleep and he could jerk off quietly while imagining some faceless but undoubtedly gorgeous man doing things to him. Kurt was his friend – it would be breaking his confidence, somehow, to ever imagine him like this. But after that conversation in the library, Blaine did. Just once, he told himself, just to test his reaction.

He came harder than he ever had before, just from imagining Kurt naked, his full pink lips on his own.

Oh, wow.

The sad part was that it didn’t change anything. Kurt didn’t want to hear about them getting married, no matter how reasonable Blaine’s arguments were. Finally, after another try, Kurt just exploded.

“Blaine, I can’t! I know we won’t be able to be close anymore and I can’t even imagine how hard it will be. But it would kill me if we got married and after some time started to hate each other. Because that’s what happens half the time, if not more, in these relationships. And I think I can survive seeing you only rarely and always among other people if I’m sure that in our hearts we’re still friends and still care. But living by your side all my life and seeing how our friendship transforms into resentment and hate? I can’t do that. I’m sorry. I’d rather hate some random stranger.”

This was when Blaine stopped trying to convince him. Because while he was certain it wouldn’t happen, he understood Kurt’s reasons.

 

Blaine was worried. Not that it was something new – it was April already and there wasn’t a moment he didn’t dread what was coming. But this particular worry had a different reason. Kurt wasn’t at school today and even Finn, his step-brother, didn’t know why he decided – and was allowed to – stay home. He just told Blaine that when he saw Kurt in the morning, talking quietly to his dad in the kitchen, he looked like he had been crying a lot. He hadn’t been answering his phone all day, either. In fact, Blaine had had no contact with him whatsoever since last afternoon, when he’d glimpsed Kurt running to his car after his last class, visibly distressed. Blaine had called after him, but Kurt either hadn’t heard him, or pretended not to.

And now he was absent from school and had been crying. Something was clearly wrong, and Blaine was going crazy not knowing what was going on. It just wasn’t like Kurt to skip school, especially now, the last week before Blaine’s 18th birthday, when every moment spent together was so precious. And Blaine couldn’t even leave Glee practice to go check on him, not when he knew his friend was probably home alone, both of his parents working. The law strictly forbade unmarried people of opposite sex – and in the case of homosexuals, the same sex – to spend time alone, without supervision. If Blaine went to Kurt’s house now and someone reported it, they would both be in deep trouble. He had to wait until Glee ended to be able to go home with Finn, but every minute of waiting was torture.

They were in the middle of discussing their set list for the final, national level of the Glee club competition they had qualified for – and Blaine had no idea what they were trying to choose between, preoccupied with his worries – when the door to the choir room opened. Everyone looked up and Blaine gasped. Right there, in the doorway, stood Kurt. He was paler than usual and looked tired, but other than that, there was no sign of anything unusual happening to him. But then again, Kurt was an expert when it came to make-up, which he’d proven many times, helping the girls with theirs. If he didn’t want distress to show on his face, he made sure it didn’t, just like that. Relief flooded Blaine as he looked at Kurt standing there in his unusually simple, completely white attire. Now at least they’d be able to talk, even if he’d have to make his friend to spill his troubles.

Everyone fell silent as Kurt finally moved from the door and approached his usual seat in the front row of chairs, by Blaine’s side. But it wasn’t until he stood before Blaine, and then slowly dropped to one knee, looking into his eyes seriously, intently, that he understood what was happening. The traditionally white outfit, the flowers that Kurt just took from behind his back, the public setting to have witnesses, as required by law – was he really…?

“Blaine Anderson, will you marry me?”

Blaine’s answer was immediate, as if any second of waiting was a risk Kurt would change his mind.

“Yes. Yes, Kurt Hummel, I will marry you.”

Even in the chaos of cheers and congratulations that ensued, Blaine could clearly see the quiet sadness that tinted Kurt’s eyes steel blue.

 

“What made you change your mind?”

They were sitting in the coffee house again, waiting for their parents to come back from work so that they could go tell them the news. Of course, Kurt’s dad already knew he would propose today, but now that their engagement was official, their families needed to meet to discuss all the details of the ceremony. And since Blaine’s birthday was in four days, they had to do it fast. Kurt had already texted his dad with confirmation, so the plan was to wait until 6 pm, when Blaine’s parents would be home, and then he would go to tell them and bring them back to Kurt’s house. So now they were just sitting here, killing time, sudden awkwardness between them almost palpable.

Kurt raised his head at Blaine’s question, his eyes still so very sad, and hesitated a little before answering.

“Karofsky.”

“What?” Whatever answer Blaine expected, it wasn’t that.

“You asked what made me change my mind. It was Karofsky.”

“Oh. Okay? I think? But what does your number one enemy have to do with us? Are we talking about the same Karofsky? The local bad boy? The guy who’s been bullying you for the last three years and landed you in a hospital last year?”

“One and the same. Yesterday, after classes, he stopped me and told me… He told me he wants to marry me.”

Blaine felt his jaw drop.

“He what?!”

“Oh, not in so many words. It was more along the lines of Hummel, I’m gonna nail your pretty ass anyway, my dad has the bid ready and waiting, so why don’t we just get this over with now and go right to the good part where I fuck you so bad you’ll need pillows to sit for weeks.”

“Oh my god.” Damn, it hurt – being accepted only because the alternative was so horrid, but it wasn’t time for thinking about himself. “But… I’m sure he was only saying that. Maybe that’s his new way of bullying you, now that he needs to watch his ass better if he doesn’t want to get expelled?”

“No, he meant it, I could tell. I checked in the Ministry database, his birthday is just a day before mine. And you know what kind of influences his father has. If he really made the bid, he would win it, no matter what.”

Kurt sniffed quietly, but his face remained forcefully impassive. Blaine could see how bad it had hit him, and it broke his heart to see him suffer so. But his own hurt was burning viciously in his throat.

“So you’d rather suffer being with me than with him, I understand. At least you can be sure I won’t hurt you.” Damn, he didn’t mean it so cuttingly. Or maybe he did.

Kurt shook his head furiously and reached to take Blaine’s hand on the table, his eyes wet and pleading now.

“No, please, don’t say it like that, Blaine. It’s not like that. It’s just… choosing between living a nightmare every day or getting something precious and beautiful and one of a kind, knowing that it will get marred and ultimately destroyed by carelessness, wear and tear, and everyday use. And I wanted to protect this, us, more than anything, even if doing so meant seeing you only from afar and not being able to touch. But I’m too weak to consciously choose the nightmare, Blaine. I just… I can’t, when I know what my life would be like with him. I’m so sorry.”

Oh. Now Blaine understood. He squeezed Kurt’s hand reassuringly.

“Let’s just take what we have and do whatever we can to protect it, together, all right? Who said it will be destroyed? Maybe we will add to it, instead? Make it even more precious? If anyone can do this, we can, Kurt. Trust me.”

Kurt’s nod was hesitant and his smile small and trembling, but at least it was something.

 

The next two days were a flurry of activity so intense that it all felt surreal. Blaine had no chance to meet his fiancé at all during that time, but for once, he didn’t mind at all. It gave him time to think and plan. Because even if he did his best to soothe Kurt’s fears about the future of their friendship, Blaine had to quietly admit that he understood his concerns. It was true that once they were bound in marriage and lived together, it would be much easier to let things slide little by little and screw their whole relationship up. He knew it happened all the time, everywhere, and while they started from a much better place than many other gay couples, it didn’t guarantee anything.

They were very different in some respects and Blaine suspected that the small, everyday things may become a source of dissonance if they weren’t careful. Their expectations were probably quite different too. Kurt was already anxious and hesitant, even before they made their vows. In any other circumstances, it would be enough to say that they should wait, think it over again. As it was, however, they didn’t have the luxury of time or doubt. They were doing this, getting bound to each other forever, and it scared Blaine how thin the ice was that they would be walking, how easily Kurt’s disappointment could give way to resentment. He couldn’t let that happen. Because Blaine was pretty sure that he was head over heels in love with his future husband and intended to do anything to give him whatever he needed to be happy. And when Blaine Anderson really wanted something, he did everything he could to make it happen.

The ceremony took place on the third day after Kurt’s proposal. Blaine had witnessed one once, last year, when his cousin got married, so he knew that it wasn’t designed to be beautiful or joyous; just a formality to be taken care of. The courthouse was dark and depressing, the wedding chamber seemed to reverberate with the sound of a hundred broken hopes, and the magistrate that married his cousin and her bidder had been grumpy and short-tempered. It had all looked like a sad parody of a wedding. But Kurt didn’t know what to expect, so it would probably come as a shock to him, especially considering his romantic dreams. Blaine couldn’t do much to change the feel of the ceremony itself, so he would just have to do what he could to make Kurt feel better. And he had a surprise for him afterwards. Or rather, a couple of them.

Kurt looked perfect, though pale and anxious when they met in front of the majestic old building early Monday afternoon, accompanied by no one but their families. The weather was kind to them, April sun making all the fresh leaves on trees and shrubs even more vividly green and full of life, but Blaine could see that it did nothing to alleviate Kurt’s worries. He almost felt bad for feeling so happy himself. Knowing how close he’d been to standing right here, maybe a couple of days later, with a complete stranger who just won him in a bid made today feel like a miracle; joy and relief thrumming in his blood ever since he woke up that morning.

Blaine came up to his fiancé and hugged him, whispering in his ear.

“Kurt, I’m so glad it’s you I’m starting this journey with. I promise I will do anything to make this marriage work and to make you happy.”

He felt Kurt stiffen briefly at the word marriage, but then he relaxed into Blaine’s embrace. There was a small smile on Kurt’s lips when they parted, and he took Blaine’s hand.

“Okay, let’s do it.”


	2. Chapter 2

The ceremony was short and unimpressive. They stated their names, dates of birth and sexual orientation for the record, and confirmed their will to get married to each other. The bored, unsmiling woman in purple (that horribly clashed with her red hair) made them each repeat the vows that were all about respect, social order, equality and fulfilling each other’s needs before they exchanged the wedding bands. The bio-metal bonded with the pigments of the rainbow tattoos on their ring fingers, melting into the skin with brief tingling, and just like that, they were married. No longer Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson, but Kurt and Blaine Anderson-Hummel, now and till death – or the law – would part them.

Before they left, they were given two sets of keys for their new apartment. Because of the young age of most gay newlyweds, the state provided accommodation for them for free until they finished their education – including college, if they decided to go. Kurt and Blaine got a small, one-bedroom apartment not far from Kurt’s family home, and if theirs was a bid marriage, they would most likely proceed to move in immediately, the formalities of the wedding complete.

But they weren’t strangers. They were best friends who had just vowed to spend the rest of their lives together, and Blaine was determined to wipe the shocked, tearful expression from his husband’s face. From now on, Kurt’s well being was his responsibility and among many silent vows Blaine added to the official ones in his heart, there was making sure his husband had no reasons to ever be upset like this. Starting now.

He held Kurt’s hand as they were walking along the endless corridors of the courthouse, back outside.

“Okay. Now that the official dreariness is over, we can have a proper celebration.”

There was confusion on Kurt’s face.

“What do you mean? I thought-“

“You’ll see. You didn’t think I’d consider this thing a proper wedding for us, did you? Because it’s not, come on! How many times did we talk about what our weddings should be like?”

“Well, yeah, but these were just silly dreams.”

“Were they?”

The main door opened before them right then and Kurt stopped dead with his eyes open almost as wide as his mouth. Blaine had to admit the view was fabulous.

There was a horse-drawn carriage standing in front of the building, all in white, complete with two horses and the driver. Only the flowers decorating the carriage created vivid flashes of color – dozens of tiger lilies woven around the back and sides, and into the horses’ manes.

The expression on Kurt’s beautiful face was well worth every minute Blaine had put into directing the preparations. His husband looked like a child who’d been given the best present he could dream of. And this was just the beginning. Smiling, Blaine pulled him by the hand.

“Shall we?”

 

The reception took place in the Andersons’ garden, decorated with hundreds of white and tiger lilies among the fresh spring green. All of their families and friends were there, dozens of people, and their Glee Club was providing most of the music. There was a festive dinner and a beautiful, four-tiered wedding cake; and then toasts, congratulations and cheers, and wedding gifts. In the evening there was champagne and dancing slowly in the soft darkness illuminated only by the moon and hundreds of string lights overhead.

Kurt was relaxed and pliant in Blaine’s arms, face hidden in the crook of his neck, and Blaine couldn’t resist pressing a soft kiss on Kurt’s cheek. The magic of the evening was thick around them, the atmosphere could hardly be more romantic, and when Kurt raised his head and looked deep into his eyes, leaning slowly in for a kiss, Blaine’s heart seemed to stop. They’d never done this; not today, not ever – not just with each other, just  _never_ , with anyone. And it felt so perfect when Kurt’s soft lips touched his, tasting of champagne and strawberries, shy and a little hesitant, that Blaine knew he would remember this forever as one of the most beautiful moments of his life. They stopped dancing and Blaine reciprocated and deepened the kiss, daring to part his lips just a tiny bit and brush the tip of his tongue over Kurt’s upper lip. He heard his husband gasp softly, felt him shiver and then Kurt’s lips were parting too, his tongue was pressing forward, searching, until they met in a hot, wet slide and Kurt moaned quietly. It seemed to break them out of their reverie and for a moment they just stood there, stunned and wide-eyed, both breathing fast and shallow.

_Wow_.

If just a little kiss felt like that, what would it be like later that night, when they could go further, got to do more? Blaine suddenly felt as if the temperature of the somewhat chilly spring evening raised dramatically. They would get to be alone tonight, with no one watching them, no curious, spying eyes trying to detect any sign of indecency. In fact, almost everything that had been considered indecent so far was now allowed between them. They could be alone whenever they wanted. They could hold hands, touch, hug and kiss, even in public. They would live together from now on, sleep together, see each other naked.  _Have sex_.

Blaine’s heart was pounding and he was certain the blush on his face had to be obvious for everyone, as if his thoughts were displayed on his forehead. He, like every child, had been taught not to talk about things like this, not to think about them except in private, when he was alone. These were issues reserved for marriage, a taboo otherwise. Sex was something that could destroy your life, get you thrown in prison or neutered. Sex was what ruined perfectly good people and societies, even little children knew that. Hormones screwed with people’s minds, causing most of the world’s problems: overpopulation and poverty, unwanted children and adultery, fights, crimes and murders committed because of lust. Sex was bad. Except in marriage.

Being able to think about it openly now was such a shock it made Blaine pretty incoherent for a while. Being able – and  _expected_  – to actually _do_  it… Oh god.

The reception was coming to a close; the music stopped, and soon, among cheers and hugs, Kurt and Blaine got into a white limousine rented specifically for this reason, to drive the half hour to their new home. Blaine could feel Kurt’s warm hand squeezing his, the metal on his finger new and strange, and he breathed deep, calming breaths. He knew what was waiting for them there, he’d planned it himself and arranged it with Finn, Rachel and Tina, who snuck out for part of the evening to transport their things to their new place (Finn) and prepare their bedroom for a lavishly romantic wedding night (the girls).

He just hoped Kurt would like it.

 

It was dark and quiet in the back of the limo, only some serene music was seeping in through the speakers, and Kurt was sitting so close it felt a little intoxicating – his thigh pressing warm against Blaine’s, his smell so close and heady when he lay his head on Blaine’s shoulder, his cool hand in Blaine’s own. Kurt’s breathing slowed down, deepened, and for a moment Blaine thought he might have fallen asleep, until he heard the familiar, melodious voice and felt a thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“Thank you, Blaine. You turned something I dreaded into a beautiful memory. You didn’t have to do any of that, but you did, for me, and I will always look back on today with a smile instead of a frown.”

Blaine felt himself blush a little. He shrugged the one unoccupied shoulder.

“You’re welcome. But you know it wasn’t just for you, right? I was hardly delighted with the courthouse ceremony myself.”

“Yeah, but still. You know me all too well. Don’t think I haven’t realized how many details fit my secret dream wedding.”

“Well, I can’t help but get inspired by the best.”

Blaine smiled at the sound of Kurt’s light chuckle. It felt good to sit together like this, knowing that they had all the time in the world for each other, that nothing threatened to separate them anymore. Something swelled in his chest, a wave of emotions, hot and earnest, and he swallowed once, twice, to stop his voice from coming out choked up.

“Kurt? I just… I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to be the best possible husband to you. In every respect. I mean it. This – us – is not just a way to avoid marrying a stranger, not for me. I… I wanted this to be you. I think I’ve wanted all along.”

Blaine braced himself, waiting for the unavoidable question, the words he’d only thought so far on the cusp of falling out into the world now, for all – and most importantly, for Kurt – to hear. But nothing came. There was silence around them, filled with the soft notes of some old time love song, and he felt rather than saw Kurt tensing beside him.

“What if  _I’m_  not?” Kurt’s voice was small, barely a whisper, and Blaine had to lean even closer to make sure he heard him. “The best husband for you, I mean. What if I’m not good enough, if I screw up and disappoint you, and ruin it all?”

“You could never disappoint me.” It was said with fierce conviction, but Kurt shook his head.

“No, don’t say that. You don’t  _know_  that. Forever is a very long time, Blaine. And living together, being a couple, partners… husbands… I’m sure we’ll get to discover a lot of things we didn’t know about each other. And what if some of them are bad? What if there’s something about me you can’t live with, yet you’ll  _have to_  now? What if-“

Kurt’s voice was getting higher, panicked, slightly hysterical, and Blaine broke him off.

“Stop, Kurt. Why are you what-iffing? We’ll cross any of those bridges if we ever get to them, but I’m not worried. We’ve always been honest with each other, we’re best friends and we talk about everything. I think these are pretty good foundations to build on, don’t you? We’ll be fine. Unless… unless you regret it.”

Blaine was grateful that Kurt answered immediately. He was sure any second of hesitation would be like a knife to his heart right now.

“No! No, of course I don’t. I’m just… anxious, I guess.”

“Don’t be. We’ll make it work, okay? Come on, here we are. Home.”

_Home_. It had never sounded so good before. Holding hands, they entered the nice, modern apartment building and climbed the stairs.

The apartment turned out to be lovely. The small, but well-equipped kitchen had all the necessary utilities and well stocked fridge and pantry. Blaine could easily imagine them sitting here by the table every morning, coffee in hand, Kurt’s eyes adorably sleepy and very blue, like they always were before he woke up fully. This thought was like something soft and tender curling around Blaine’s heart, making him feel strangely moved.  _Was it what love felt like?_

The next room they entered was clearly designed as a study, with two desks and enough shelves to comfortably fit all the books and papers they would need now and for the next four years when they were at the local college. The door opposite was closed and as if by silent agreement, they left it that way, going right to the cozy living room where most of their boxes stood along the walls.

The room was furnished in cream and chocolate brown, and Kurt perked up instantly, coming up with ways to liven it up a little and make it more  _them_. Blaine couldn’t help but watch him with breath catching in his throat – it felt so natural, so comfortable, Kurt already designing their shared space with his usual ease for these things. His silence must have stretched too long, though, because soon his husband was blushing and chuckling self-consciously.

“Sorry. I know, I know. I can’t help it, it just kicks in and-“

“You’re adorable.”

These weren’t exactly the words Blaine wanted to say, but he chickened out at the very last second. Trying to cover a sudden wave of embarrassment, he took Kurt’s hand and pulled him along to the big, comfy couch where they dropped onto the plush cushions with a sigh. For a moment they just looked at each other, smiling. Finally, Blaine spoke.

“I still can’t believe we’re allowed to be here alone. I keep expecting someone to come in and yell at us.”

Kurt nodded.

“Yeah. A lot has changed in the last three days. I think it will take a while to get used to it.”

Blaine couldn’t drag his eyes away from Kurt’s lips as he spoke – full, pink lips that had felt so perfect against his own earlier that night. Before he realized what he was doing, he was stroking his thumb over his husband’s slightly stubbled cheek, and Kurt’s eyes were wide, darker than he’d ever seen them. It felt amazing, the rough finish on a peach-skin soft cheek. So manly. So sexy.

Blaine’s voice came out rough when he spoke.

“Can I… can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

It was only a whisper, but it was enough. A second later Blaine was kneeling on the couch and leaning in to touch, to kiss, and it was even better than before. There was no one around and they had as much time as they wanted, all the time in the world to learn and practice, to map the topography of each other’s mouth, getting braver by the minute, until their tongues tangling together, sliding along each other felt as easy and natural as breathing. There were those breathy little noises, the quiet broken moans and  _wow_ , Kurt’s lips were  _really_  sensitive to touch. Blaine nipped the lower one experimentally, sucking on it a little, and Kurt’s hands shot up to tangle in his curls and pull him even closer, his moan louder than ever.

Kurt pulled away after a moment, flushed and deliciously disheveled, to whisper breathlessly.

“I think I like kissing you.”

“That’s good, because I know I love kissing  _you_.”

The gentle curve of Kurt’s neck was impossible to ignore any longer, so Blaine dove in, pressing kisses in the sweet hollow below his husband’s ear, licking his way under the jaw, sucking here and there as he slid down the pale throat, tasting the hints of aftershave and sweat and, most importantly,  _Kurt_. And if he thought that Kurt had been reactive before, well… the way he was arching and whimpering now was very,  _very_  distracting.

Kurt hissed suddenly and withdrew from the kiss, blushing.

“Would you mind if we um… changed into something more comfortable?”

Oh. Now that he found several working cells in his brain, Blaine realized how constricting the fitted suit pants were against his undeniable erection. Kurt probably – hopefully! – felt the same. Yes, yoga pants would be a much better idea. Blaine stood up from the couch, sliding his jacket off.

“You’re right. I told Finn to put the clothes bags and boxes in the closet, I assume it’s in the bedroom.”

When Kurt got up, it was hard to miss the bulge in his pants, and Blaine had to try very hard not to stare, suddenly feeling hotter than ever. The thought that they might… that they  _would_ … He swallowed with some effort and forced himself to move.

The moment Blaine opened the door to the bedroom, he saw Kurt stiffen slightly. The girls may have gotten a little overenthusiastic with their task – undoubtedly Rachel’s influence. The wide bed was made with a snow-white bedding so that the hundreds of red rose petals on top looked like drops of blood. There were dozens of candles everywhere, unlit for now, the room brightened only by a small bedside lamp. Blaine’s iPod stood in its deck on the windowsill, ready to provide the background for whatever they would get to do tonight. It looked nice, if a bit over the top.

Blaine was about to move towards the half-open closet door where some boxes were visible, when he heard a choked sound. Kurt was white as a sheet when Blaine glanced at him; in fact, he looked a little sick, his eyes trained at one particular spot in the room. Blaine followed his line of sight and groaned internally.  _Damn_  the girls.

On the bedside table stood a big box of condoms and a bottle of lubricant,  _The best for anal pleasures_  written in bold block letters at the front.

Talk about awkwardness. Of course, they would get there, but flashing those like that when the only thing they’d done so far was kissing… Oh god, did Kurt think  _he_ ’d put them there?

He didn’t have a chance to ask or explain, however, because right then Kurt’s voice, carefully controlled – and Blaine knew very well it meant he was closing in – sounded beside him.

“Blaine, would you mind… I’m exhausted, today was so long and emotional, and I couldn’t sleep last night, and… Could we just go to bed? Oh god, I mean… rest? Please?”

Blaine could easily hear the tears threatening behind Kurt’s indifferent façade and damn, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, he wanted everything slow and gradual, and perfect, and now… He  _had to_  fix it. His voice warm and soothing, he nodded.

“Of course. Do you want to go take a shower? I’ll clear it all up by the time you’re back.”

Kurt was clearly breaking, the stress of the last days, the decisions, the changes, the ceremony – it was all too much, and even though he was trying with all his might to keep it in, Blaine knew. He could see. And it broke his heart.

“Blaine, I- I’m sorry, it’s just-“

“No, it’s fine. Everything is okay. Go, take a shower and we’ll go to sleep.” 

It took a long while before Kurt’s sobs in the bathroom died down. In the meantime Blaine managed to clean up the rose petals, hide the offending condoms and lube, and remove the candles. The place looked like a normal bedroom again, even if it was still special, because it was  _theirs_.

Blaine went to the kitchen after he was done, and waited until he heard Kurt in the bedroom before he went to take a shower himself. He didn’t want to make the other boy uncomfortable – he knew Kurt hated it when anyone saw him in his weaker moments, with his eyes red from crying. He knew that when Kurt was upset, he needed to be alone before he turned for comfort himself. He knew the boundaries that were important to his husband.

When Blaine got to the bedroom, Kurt was lying on the very edge of the bed, curled into fetal position, facing the wall. Blaine could tell by his stiff shoulders and the trembling in his breathing that he wasn’t asleep, but he let it go. He lay down on the other side of the bed, keeping respectable distance, and tried to sleep, without much success.

This wasn’t how he’d imagined their first night together.

 

Blaine woke up slowly, trying to hold on to the last tendrils of sleep, his head aching. He felt strange; something was different than usual. For one, why hadn’t his alarm clock blared its stupid little tune yet? And the bed, it was…

Gasping, Blaine sat up quickly – and regretted it instantly when his head pounded in response. Of course everything was different – he was _married_  now. Married to Kurt. Living with Kurt.  _In love_  with Kurt.

But the other side of the bed was empty, the sheets cold. Blaine remembered the disastrous ending of last evening then, and fell back down on the pillows, groaning. Damn, this was bad. He’d been lying awake for hours last night, looking at Kurt’s small, curled up form, yearning to touch his friend – his husband – gather him in his arms and promise that everything would be all right. But he couldn’t. Because he knew that Kurt wouldn’t let him, that he needed his alone time with a problem – that was one reason. But the other one was making Blaine uneasy even now.

He couldn’t tell Kurt that everything would be all right, because he didn’t really know what the problem was. Or rather, how big it was, how far it extended. It was about sex, that much was clear – the way Kurt had been looking at the condoms and lube, with fear, maybe even betrayal in his eyes, made it obvious. But the specifics? Did he think Blaine would push him, force him even, the way Karofsky had apparently planned not so secretly? Was it just fear of going too fast for Kurt’s romantic notions? Something in between, or maybe something else entirely? Blaine couldn’t tell.

They’d never talked about sex, intimacy, about their fantasies or desires – it was a taboo in their society. Normally, they would be allowed to discuss it before the wedding, if only to know what they should expect, but with Blaine’s birthday approaching – oh, it was today, wasn’t it? – they simply hadn’t had time for that. Obviously, they should talk. But frankly, Blaine would really, truly prefer not to. He didn’t know how to talk about such things, he’d never tried. What could he say, what words to use to not sound like either a pervert or an idiot? Sighing, Blaine decided that talking could wait. Maybe the issue would just resolve itself with time? Maybe yesterday was just too much stress and pressure, nothing else?

He’d assumed that he and Kurt would have sex. Not necessarily anal sex right away, and he didn’t honestly expect it to happen on their wedding night, but come on, they were both horny, hormonal teenagers, clearly attracted to each other, who had never had a chance to act on their desires and now were not only allowed at last, but in fact were expected to have sex. It had to lead to that eventually, right? Especially with the way Kurt had clearly enjoyed kissing at least as much as Blaine had.

With this comforting thought, Blaine decided to brave getting up. He made the bed – Kurt liked things clean and tidy, better to remember about that – and opened the bedroom door.

There were some amazing smells in the air; coffee, definitely, and-

“Waffles?”

Blaine asked in disbelief, standing in the kitchen doorway, barefooted and still in his pajamas. Kurt, fully dressed already, turned from the sink and smiled, his real, bright smile that turned his face into a heartwarming little sun. He looked tired, but clearly there were no hard feelings because he came up to Blaine and kissed him softly on the lips.

“Yes. With fruit and whipped cream, just the way you love them. Plus coffee. Happy birthday, Blaine.”

_Yes_ , Blaine thought as they sat at the table eating breakfast, the conversation between them easy as always.  _It would all resolve itself. No need to worry._


	3. Chapter 3

He was wrong.

They spent a lovely day celebrating Blaine’s birthday with their families and then met their friends in the evening. It was quite natural therefore that by midnight Kurt was barely able to keep his eyes open. To be honest, Blaine felt tired too. They talked a little in bed and kissed goodnight, and fell asleep holding hands. It felt safe and wonderful, and Blaine fell a little bit more in love with this amazing boy.

As newlyweds, they were granted three free days after the wedding, so on Wednesday they finally started to unpack all of their boxes and properly settle in their new home. It took longer than Blaine expected as their things seemed to multiply and the number of bags and packages everywhere grew somehow. By late afternoon they were still only half-done; after Kurt’s delicious dinner Blaine announced defeat because he was way too full to move, let alone bend down and carry heavy things.

They settled for a quiet evening watching movies instead, and it felt perfect, sitting on the couch together, sharing a soft, fluffy blanket. After a while Kurt cuddled closer and lay his head on Blaine’s shoulder, and this was the moment when paying any attention to the movie became very, very difficult. Who could care about some silly plot when they had a gorgeous boy leaning against them, with his expressive face and clear grey-blue eyes, and lips begging to be kissed?

Blaine had never been particularly good at saying no, so how could he resist, really? After only a moment they were kissing like they’d been starving for it, with passion and abandon and all the amazing sounds that made Blaine think fleetingly that completely soundproof interior paints had been the best invention ever. Soon they ended up lying on the couch, still kissing, their hands wandering a little over backs and stomachs, but the second Blaine’s fingers sneaked under Kurt’s shirt, the delightful little bubble of pleasure burst. Kurt sat up rapidly, his breathing still fast, but face already wary.

“I… I don’t feel too good, I’m sorry, Blaine.” It was strange, because just seconds before everything suggested that he’d felt really, really good. “I have a… a headache. Yes, I think I’ll take an aspirin and go to sleep, okay?”

And really, what could Blaine say to that? It wasn’t like it couldn’t be true, it was just… weird. But when they went to bed and Blaine reached hesitantly to embrace his husband, Kurt cuddled closer as if he’d been waiting for it all along. And when he fell asleep with his head tucked under Blaine’s chin, breathing softly against his chest, Blaine forgot about any weirdness, swept away by a wave of love and tenderness like he’d never felt before. Even his cock, achingly hard and pressed lightly against Kurt’s hip, didn’t count right then.

But by Thursday evening Blaine could no longer pretend that there wasn’t a problem. They were putting their clothes in the closet all afternoon, a process greatly complicated by Kurt’s elaborated system of organizing and his running commentary about some of Blaine’s outfits. After another round of teasing and laughing they ended up tangled together on the bed, lips and hands wandering, exploring. Everything was going perfectly fine; Kurt was eager and moaning beside him, until Blaine rolled them and pressed his husband to the bed, and… Yes, there was no way Kurt could have missed Blaine’s erection pressed against his thigh. He flew from the bed instantly, disappearing into the bathroom. When he got back, claiming that he’d just needed to pee, the mood was already ruined and they finished organizing the closet in silence. In the evening Blaine got out from the shower to find Kurt already asleep – or pretending in a very convincing way.

No, it definitely didn’t look like the problem was resolving on its own. Soon, it actually got worse.

On Friday it was time to go back to reality, which consisted, among other things, of being high school students. For the first time in years Blaine ate an actual breakfast before school and drank coffee at home instead of grabbing one on the way – all Kurt’s influence, of course. It was nice, starting the day like this – unhurriedly, with sleepy smiles and a warm hand on his on the table, with someone who knew it was useless to try and talk to Blaine before he had any caffeine in him, but who didn’t mind it.

There were some curious glances when they entered the school holding hands, but their ring fingers, where the rainbows tattoos were now covered with wide silvery bands engraved with each other’s names, explained everything. The guys from the glee club teased them slightly during lunch about finally being able to do “all the fun stuff”. Kurt changed the topic so fluidly that no one but Blaine realized how upset he got. Other than that, the day proceeded like any other.

They had most of their classes together that day, and they were walking to the choir room, holding hands, when it happened. Karofsky, his signature leather jacket and creepy smirk in place, rounded the corner of the empty corridor in front of them. The expression on his meaty face faltered for a second when he saw their joined hands, but then his grin widened even more as he drawled.

“Well, well, Hummel, what do I see… Still the naïve little virgin, are you? Now that’s interesting.”

He stalked away with a cold cackle before any of them had time to react, and the next instant Blaine felt Kurt physically stumble by his side, as if punched. He swayed and would have fallen if Blaine hadn’t caught and supported him. Worried, he pulled Kurt closer.

“Hey, everything all right?”

But his husband was already getting himself back together, his face unreadable but for the tight set of his jaw.

“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just, you know… him again. I’d hoped he’d leave me alone now.”

Blaine knew Kurt too well to believe that was all.

“Kurt, what he said…”

Kurt wouldn’t let him finish, though. His eyes carefully averted, he shook his head and resumed walking.

“It doesn’t matter. Come on, Glee is about to start.”

And that was the end of the topic. Kurt didn’t breathe a word about the incident or Karofsky again that day, but that evening he said he needed to finish an essay so that he could have a free weekend. Blaine went to bed alone, only to find his husband asleep on the couch in the morning. Kurt said he must have dozed off when he sat down there while taking a break, but it didn’t explain the fact that he was showered and in his pajamas. It all felt very strange to Blaine, but every time he tried to start a serious conversation, Kurt dodged, until finally exploding about Blaine being nosy and suspicious, and shutting himself in the study room.

There were no cuddles in bed that night, and no morning kisses. Most of Sunday passed in chilly silence and Blaine was slowly going crazy, uncertain what he could do, when Kurt dashed out of the study room, panicked expression on his face. Blaine heard the slam of the bathroom door and then unmistakable sounds of retching. Without a second of hesitation, he followed.

Kurt was kneeling on the floor by the toilet, heavy sobs shaking his lean body. He tried to cover his face, but Blaine would have none of it. Enough, damn it! Something was seriously wrong and he wouldn’t just stand by any longer.

“Kurt.”

“No, Blaine, it’s nothing, just-“

“Stop that.” The tone of his voice, hard and final, made Kurt look up just as Blaine sat down and pulled him, unprotesting for once, into his arms. “Enough, Kurt. I can see that something is really bothering you and you’ve been trying to hide it from me for some reason. Please don’t do that. You don’t have to deal with this alone, whatever it is. I love you, I’m here for you, please let me help.”

Kurt suddenly went very still and very quiet in Blaine’s embrace. Then he whispered.

“You love me?”

“I do. And before you ask, no, not just as a friend. Now, can we talk, please?”

Kurt nodded. With visible effort that made his hands and lips tremble, he looked Blaine in the eyes and whispered barely audibly.

“I don’t want to have sex. Ever.”

For a moment, Blaine felt too shocked to react in any way, a vision of living his whole life without experiencing anything sexual even once flashing bright and blinding in his mind. This was exactly the reaction Kurt had been afraid of, it seemed. He pulled away from Blaine’s arms to sit against a wall, curling in on himself. His face was a picture of misery, tears flowing silently down his cheeks, and Blaine slapped himself mentally. He needed to stop worrying about possible futures and take care of the boy he loved now. They had to talk and then, when he had all the facts, he could start processing it. In the worst case scenario, he would still have Kurt in his life, could kiss him, touch him a little maybe, spend every day with him. He would deal with it… somehow? He would.

Pushing his shock and emotions to the back burner of his mind for now, he reached to Kurt, who shook his head and withdrew even further.

“I’m sorry, Blaine, I know I should have told you before you said yes, but-“

“Kurt, does this have anything to do with why you panicked in the study? What happened?”

Kurt’s eyes widened as he remembered something and suddenly he started shaking all over. Blaine got to his feet. This was not a place for a conversation like this. He pulled Kurt up too and lead him to the couch. Once there, he took his husband’s hands – ice-cold and clammy now – and said calmly.

“Tell me.”

Kurt took several deep breaths before he started.

“I got a message from Karofsky. He wrote…” Kurt’s hands tightened instinctively, almost painfully on Blaine’s. “He wrote that he’s going to challenge the validity of our marriage, based on it not being consummated. He said his father would have the papers ready as soon as he turns 18. He wants it to get annulled so that he can have me for himself. He’s guessing, of course, but since he’s right…”

Blaine gasped. That bastard! And since Kurt didn’t want to have sex… What could they do? The problem was much, much bigger than he’d expected.

Some of his feelings must have reflected on Blaine’s face, because Kurt started shaking again.

“See, before this email I was only afraid of your reaction, and it was bad enough. This is one of the reasons why I didn’t want to marry you, Blaine. Because you would either respect my refusal, and it would make you unhappy, or you would… well, not force, I know, but convince me, maybe, to try anyway, even though I didn’t want to. So it would get between us no matter what. But now? It’s like Karofsky gets to decide everything for us. Because either he gets to have me against my will or you do – either way, it has nothing to do with what I want and everything with him pressuring me. I just can’t see a way out of this, Blaine. I’m sorry, you don’t deserve this, I should never have-“

But Blaine’s mind was already in analytical mode, the same one that made his father one of the best mathematicians in the state. Problem solving. He could do that, he just needed all the data.

“Kurt. We’ll find a solution. Could you tell me more about why you don’t want to have sex?”

Hurt glimmered in Kurt’s eyes, completely grey now, and he shook his head, blushing.

“I can’t. I can’t talk to you about it, you’re my husband and I just… I don’t know how.”

“Okay. Could you talk about it if I was still only your friend, not your husband? If you were married to someone else and just met me for coffee, and somehow could discuss this problem you encountered in your relationship with me as your best friend?”

Kurt thought for a moment and nodded, hesitant.

“I think so. But-“

“Okay. You want to become an actor – you have a chance to practice now. I’ll go to the kitchen and make coffee. You get into your role and come there in a moment. I want you to try and talk to me about sex. Let’s pretend no one will know, we’re allowed to talk about it. Do you think you can do that?”

Kurt was already wiping his eyes with a tissue, nodding. There was a glimpse of determination in his eyes and Blaine knew that look. He wouldn’t go down without a fight. Good; this was what they needed now.


	4. Chapter 4

When Kurt came to the kitchen five minutes later, he looked upset, but collected. He sat down across the table from Blaine, reached for his coffee cup and started without preamble.

“I have a problem.”

Blaine nodded. He’d taken that time to get into his role too. What Kurt was about to say could hurt him or cause an emotional reaction if he took it personally, and he couldn’t allow it, not now, or the conversation would lead them nowhere. He was Kurt’s friend now.  _Only_  his friend, nothing more. Distancing himself from his newfound love was more difficult that he expected, but he believed he’d done fine.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I do, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to. Can I try?”

“Of course. You know you can trust me.”

“I know.”

Kurt seemed to get stuck then, unsure how to start, so Blaine hinted.

“Does it have anything to do with your marriage?”

Kurt’s face fell for a second, but he got back in his role immediately.

“As a matter of fact, it does. See, I’ve never told anyone, but I… I don’t want to have sex. I’d be happy if I could live my whole life without it. But things are complicated and it seems like I have no choice. I can either have sex with my husband or our marriage will get annulled and I’ll be forced to marry someone who won’t care about my views at all.”

Blaine shook his head like it was new information.

“Sounds awful! I guess you’d prefer… no, I won’t guess. Which would you prefer?”

Kurt was staring into his coffee cup as if there was something very interesting in the milk foam.

“Well, considering I’ve been in love with my husband since the day we met, I’d really rather stay with him.”

Blaine felt his heart lose a beat.

“You have? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, I’ve never told you. Or him. Didn’t want to make a fool of myself because I was sure he didn’t feel the same. But apparently he does, so…”

“So you don’t want your marriage annulled.”

“No.”

Blaine nodded. He’d been shaken out of his role for a moment, but he needed to concentrate, needed all his wits about him, now more than ever. He could kiss Kurt senseless later. Going back into his analytical mindset, he ventured.

“So it seems like consummating the marriage is the only solution?”

“Yes. And it will ruin everything between us.”

Blaine frowned.

“Why would you think so?”

“Blaine, isn’t it obvious?” Kurt shook his head, his expression incredulous. “I don’t want this. So even when I agree – and I will, because I have no choice – it will still feel like  _rape_ , because  _I don’t want this_.”

Suddenly, Blaine had trouble breathing. He shot to his feet and stumbled away from the table. Panic flared on Kurt’s face, so he managed to choke out.

“Give me five minutes. Please,” before fleeing out of the kitchen.

 

Blaine stood on the balcony, gulping huge breaths of air. He couldn’t do this. He  _couldn’t_ , not if it felt like  _that_ to Kurt. Not if it would hurt him. He’d never,  _ever_ … His mind was on fire, it felt like it was squirming away from the mere thought.  _Rape_. No. Just… no.

He settled for just breathing, a calming sequence of  _in out in out in out_ , until he felt his thoughts clear somewhat and started to calm down. Thinking. He needed thinking, not feelings right now. Because while he felt sick even hearing the r-word, he knew that Karofsky wouldn’t have such a problem, not in the slightest. Blaine needed to go back in there, back into the best friend role, and try to find a way around this. They still had two weeks before Kurt’s birthday. They would figure it out. They  _had to_. Because there was no way in hell Blaine would do anything against Kurt’s will, and he would rather die than let Karofsky touch him.

There had to be another way, something they hadn’t thought about yet. He needed to consider all the facts before he could continue their conversation. He’d had a chance to learn a bit about the consummation policy several months ago, when his parents and their friends discussed it over dinner as an example of the law being overly invasive. It was an interesting conversation, so Blaine listened to every word, never thinking that this knowledge would prove useful one day.

Forcing himself back into an analytical mindset now, he set out to remember and gather everything he knew for certain, attempting to find an angle they hadn’t explored yet.

Fact one: According to law, marriage needed to be consummated in order to be valid.

At least that was the theory; it was hardly ever actually controlled in any way, nowadays – unless someone challenged  a validity of a particular relationship, the way Karofsky planned to do. In such cases, inquiry was ordered, and if it was really the case, the marriage was annulled and both partners were free for claiming immediately. The person who challenged the marriage had priority in claiming either of them.

Fact two: There was supposedly no way to cheat during the inquiry.

Both partners were interviewed in detail, separately, and there were some honesty-enhancing substances involved. One of their guests said something about actual medical examination, too, but he wasn’t certain about this part.

Fact three: There was no actual definition of consummation when it came to gay marriages.

It could be – and was – interpreted in several ways. These days, most judges accepted any type of sexual activity – manual, oral or penetrative, but apparently there were still some traditionalists who believed in a heteronormative model that could be summarized by a slogan “there’s no consummation without penetration”.

Fact four: Kurt didn’t want to have sex.

That was certain. But what did he mean, specifically? Because he’d been fine, enthusiastic even, and so very responsive with kissing, making out… Where was the boundary? At nudity? Orgasms? And why was it, anyway?

_There_. That was where the solution might hide. That was what they needed to talk about. Completely calm now, Blaine went back inside.

Kurt was pacing the kitchen, visibly anxious; he stopped when Blaine entered, with an expression so scared it hurt.

“Blaine, I’m  _so_  sorry. I should never have dumped it on you like that, I should have kept it to myself. Is there any chance you could try to forget I said anything?”

Blaine shook his head earnestly.

“No, I’m glad you told me, I needed to know. We’ve always been honest with each other and this should be no different. Come on, I want to continue our talk.”

“You… what?”

Kurt’s eyes were huge, disbelieving. Blaine came up to embrace him and stroke his cheek.

“I refuse to do anything as barbaric as forcing you to have sex with me. And we’re  _not_  getting an annulment. So we need to think of another solution. Come on, back in your role.”

With a soft kiss on the forehead, he released Kurt and set out to make more coffee.

By the time he was done, Kurt was sitting by the table, looking much calmer. Blaine joined him and took a sip of his coffee before asking conversationally.

“So why don’t you want to have sex?” Kurt spluttered, and Blaine shrugged with a smile. “What? I’m just curious. Are you asexual? Don’t you like to be touched? Any particular reason at all?”

“I’m  _not_  asexual, thank you very much! And I  _do_  like to be touched. Actually, I really,  _really_  like to be touched. And kissed.  _Mm_ …”

Kurt’s expression turned dreamy and Blaine snorted a fond laugh.

“What, it’s  _that_  good?”

“You have no idea. I-” Kurt’s eyes snapped open and he blushed. “Blaine!”

“What? I thought you wanted to share.”

“I’ve shared enough already.” Kurt tried to pout, but he was visibly amused, so it didn’t quite work.

“And you wanted my reasons anyway. It’s just… sex is humiliating, and disgusting, and just plain animalistic, and I can’t see how it can have anything to do with love. I don’t know how people can look at each other after doing something like that.” The expression on Blaine’s face must have showed how dumbfounded he felt, because Kurt added quickly. “And it’s supposed to be unbearably painful. Greg from the swim team said that he-“

Something started dawning on Blaine. Was it possible…? He interrupted Kurt mid-sentence.

“Kurt. I need to know. Where did you learn about sex?”

“In sex-ed class, of course, where else?”

“Just there?”

“Um, yeah?”

Oh, that explained  _so much_.

The so called sex-ed class was a joke, a single hour in their junior year, separate for straight kids, gay boys and gay girls, where the mechanics of sex were explained – in dry, scientific words and photographs that made even the most horny guys go  _ewww_. And for whatever reason, the ministry-sent teacher limited the lecture to the topic of anal sex – talking in great detail about anatomy and physiology, preparation, hygiene and pain management.

Sure, Blaine understood that other sexual activities were much easier to figure out by yourself, but even a short mention that sex didn’t only mean penetration would be good; saying one sentence about manual stimulation, about oral sex. And including emotional aspects of sex would be a dream come true. Because while Blaine was lucky enough to have liberal, progressive parents who listened to their gay friends’ advice and got him a book about gay sexuality that explained all those things tastefully and in detail, most guys didn’t get that. Including Kurt. Which meant…

“Kurt, can I ask you a blunt question?”

“Sure.”

Blaine took a deep breath.

“When you say you don’t want to have sex… do you just mean you’re not interested in having anything shoved up your ass?”

Kurt gasped and blushed red at his straightforwardness, but nodded. Blaine felt something very heavy lift from his chest and he let his head drop to the table with a dull thump, trying to suppress a hysterical giggle. They would be fine. They would be  _just fine_.

Kurt was watching him with a mixture of confusion and horror when he stopped laughing. Blaine shook his head, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Sorry, it’s just… Miscommunication is a bitch. Pardon my French.”

Kurt frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… Maybe you should talk about sex with your husband? I mean, did you even ask him if he expects you to bottom?”

Kurt’s eyes widened almost comically.

“No, but I… I mean… I assumed…”

“Why would you assume?”

“Well, I’ve been called a lady or feminine all my life, and Karofsky said… I’ve never even  _thought_  about it, I just…” He looked at Blaine almost shyly. “So what do you expect?”

“Wait, are we talking as husbands now?”

“Yes.”

Blaine felt himself color a little. It felt strangely different to talk about it from this position now.

“Actually, I hoped it would be the other way round, at least the first time. But that’s not even the issue, Kurt. Sex is not necessarily penetration, you know?” Kurt’s face was a picture of confusion and Blaine felt an idea stir to life in his head. “No, right, you  _don’t_  know. Tell you what. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.”

“No, I mean  _really_  trust me? Like, you know for sure that I would never hurt you?”

Thankfully, Kurt didn’t hesitate.

“I do.”

The idea was growing fast, and Blaine grabbed onto it, speaking fervently.

“Good. Then here’s an offer. Give me 24 hours. Not right now – I’ll tell you when, but before your birthday. I need 24 hours and your trust, nothing more. I want to show you that sex can be loving, beautiful and romantic, and nothing like you imagined. You say you like being touched and kissed – let me show you it can be even better. This way I’ll have a chance to give you something I think you may like and we’ll solve the problem of consummation. And if you  _don’t_  like it – I promise, after those 24 hours we can never do it again. Ever. But I need you to honestly trust me – because you want to, not because you feel pressured.”

Kurt hesitated for a moment.

“If I say I don’t want something or ask you to stop…”

“I will stop immediately, I swear.”

Kurt nodded.

“Okay then.”

Blaine’s heart felt so light he was sure he could fly if he tried.

 


	5. Chapter 5

The day had been emotionally exhausting for both of them; by the time they went to bed Blaine felt drained after the rollercoaster of worry, shock and finally relief. But it was a good, well-earned exhaustion, the kind that came with a taste of new chances, hope and a bright future.

The bedside lamp still on, they lay face to face, looking at each other as if they’d just met. In a way, they had. The Kurt that Blaine was looking at wasn’t the same person he’d known all this time. Today, he’d shown more of himself than ever before, revealed a hidden part so vulnerable that Blaine still thought about it with reverence; he’d opened up completely, trusting to be understood and accepted. The blue-speckled grey of Kurt’s eyes was clear and unafraid now, his face calm and open, its lines soft.

With gentle fingers, Blaine drew a light, barely-there curve along the oval of Kurt’s face – from his temple, down his cheek and the beautifully defined jaw to his chin, where a hint of stubble tickled his fingertips. He smoothed the pad of his thumb around the lips that stole his breath away every time they kissed, and felt them part with a quiet gasp. His index finger traced up the slope of Kurt’s nose and across his forehead before Blaine tangled his fingers into his husband’s soft thick hair, unstyled tonight, to pull him into a gentle, tender kiss.

Blaine suspected he was becoming seriously addicted to Kurt’s lips, and he was completely fine with that. Everyone needed at least one addiction in life, right? And this one was so much better than any other – even coffee. Or waffles. He hoped it would always feel like this – skin so sensitive that every touch was like liquid fire, his heart beating so much faster than normal, the rush of pleasure and love and desire. He broke the kiss, only to whisper against Kurt’s lips.

“I love you so much.”

He heard Kurt’s breath catch and realized this was the first time he said it like that – not as a side note in a conversation, like before, not just in his head, but directly and purposefully. Kurt’s smile made his whole face light up as he answered, a little breathless.

“I love you too.”

Blaine switched off the lamp and they found each other again in the darkness – gentle slides of fingers as they were learning each other’s features and committing them to memory; soft, unhurried kisses getting slowly sloppier and more languid, until they fell asleep, lips on lips, hands joined and fingers intertwined on a pillow over their heads.

Waking up the next morning felt good – slowly, gradually Blaine came back to reality where his gorgeous husband, currently a warm, sleep-flushed mess of a boy curled all over him like a tangled octopus, loved him and trusted him enough to let him closer than he’d ever considered letting anyone before. It was a good reality to wake up to; the best one.

It was only six o’clock, almost an hour before the alarm would go off. For the next 45 minutes Blaine lay there, watching the beautiful creature in his arms and plotting the best possible way to introduce Kurt to intimacy. He only had one chance, there was no room for screw-ups, and Blaine was a complete novice himself, albeit an educated one. But he had two major advantages on his side: He was a very good planner. He was also head over heels in love with his husband.

Finally, five minutes before the alarm, Blaine smiled, satisfied, and pressed a kiss on the slightly parted soft lips that kept teasing and distracting him all along.

“Good morning, love.”

 

Keeping his hands away from Kurt turned out to be the most difficult part of the plan for Blaine. Seeing his husband stretch like a cat before getting up; hearing him sing in the shower and knowing he stood there naked, so close; looking at him – graceful and elegant walking along a corridor at school – it made it difficult to think straight. It felt like their conversation and agreement to try, even for just 24 hours, to be intimate was a command to his brain: release all the hormones! Finally, Blaine gave up and resorted to some self-help after coming back from Glee that Monday, otherwise things were going to get too heated way too soon.

He wanted to leave all the control to Kurt for now – he needed him comfortable with this, relaxed, eager even before he would try do go any further. They had time, there was no need to rush yet. If only his body could accept that.

Taking a shower right after school was unusual, but luckily they’d been practicing quite vigorous choreography today, so it wasn’t suspicious. Trying to be quiet during one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever had was another matter entirely. Blaine hoped that the sounds of running water and whatever Kurt was doing in the kitchen drowned his choked moans.

But maybe they hadn’t, because as soon as Blaine got out of the bathroom, fresh and comfortable in yoga pants and a t-shirt, his hair damp and curly, Kurt pulled him by the hand to the bedroom and pushed him on the bed. They made out for well over an hour, just lips and necks and hands over clothes, nothing more than before except for Kurt’s shy fingers sneaking under Blaine’s t-shirt, five points of buzzing heat that made Blaine’s muscles tense in anticipation of more. But there was no more, not that afternoon, and Blaine was glad for his forethought when Kurt finally pulled away, flushed and breathless, to announce they needed to make dinner.

On Tuesday afternoon there was grocery shopping together, followed by an evening of not watching old movies with Kurt straddling Blaine’s thighs on the couch – too far to press against each other, but close enough to tease unbearably. Blaine had never gone through so many mathematical equations in his head before, and still he barely managed not to come from Kurt’s lips, his position, his breathy little moans in his ear.

On Wednesday they had no time alone, spending half a day with the Hummels, which made it even more difficult for Blaine when Kurt cuddled into him in bed, a little spoon humming adorably and quickly falling asleep with his ass right against Blaine’s very interested cock.

Thursday was the first day when Kurt seemed completely comfortable making out, not a bit of tension in his body, no hesitation in his moves as he rolled them so that Blaine was over him, pressing him into the bed. Kurt was in control, just following his instincts – his hands sliding easily under Blaine’s shirt and up his back, his teeth dragging over the side of Blaine’s neck, and Blaine felt overwhelmed, drowned by pleasure and sensations and Kurt, unable to slow down and control his reactions. So he gave back as much as he got, for the first time touching the smooth skin of Kurt’s stomach, muscles rippling under his hand. Their loud breaths and moans mingled as they got more and more carried away. Kurt whimpered for more when Blaine’s tongue met a barrier of his shirt’s neckline, and pushed him away only to pull the offending garment off in a swift motion, and suddenly there he was, half naked for the first time for Blaine to see.

And what a view it was. Hot. Gorgeous. So beautiful. But staring would have to wait, because Kurt was pulling him back down, to touch and kiss and lick, unrestrained and loud, sighing, moaning, keening – and oh, the things this was doing to Blaine… But it didn’t really matter, because now it was all for Kurt – Blaine’s fingers running down his sides, Blaine’s lips on his collarbone, his sternum, tongue peeking out curiously to touch the dusky pink nipple…

And then Kurt was arching, mouth open in a soundless cry, head thrown to the side, fingers digging spastically into Blaine’s back, the long hard line of his cock pressed against Blaine’s thigh pulsing in an unmistakable rhythm.

Whatever Blaine expected to happen next – and the scenarios running through his head kept him from the edge in a very effective way – it wasn’t this. He thought Kurt would be embarrassed or freaking out, or anything along those lines, and was prepared to soothe him or talk about it. Instead, Kurt pulled him up into a series of long, languid kisses before he opened his eyes, clear, sparkling blue, and murmured with a sated smile.

“I think I need a shower now.”

And with a fleeting kiss to the tip of Blaine’s nose, he was gone. A minute later he was singing in the shower, cheer radiating from every note, and Blaine finally managed to snap his mouth closed. Pure Kurt. Always zigging when Blaine thought he was about to zag. Oh, he loved that about him, but right now? He was so confused.

Belatedly, Blaine realized that he could have done something about the fact that his cock was still achingly hard, now that Kurt was out of the room, but the water was already off in the bathroom and he really didn’t want to be in the middle of jerking off when his husband came back. Even though he had to admit the thought was… interesting.

Kurt sauntered into the room, pink from the hot water and fresh in a delicious, just-showered way that Blaine loved; his own natural smell of warm skin mixing with the cosmetics. He plopped on the bed next to Blaine, still dreamy-eyed and smiling sleepily, and burrowed under his husband’s arm.

“Cuddle time?”

Blaine laughed fondly.

“With you? Always.”

Kurt hummed happily and cuddled even closer, twining his leg with Blaine’s.

“Mmm. I love you.”

Blaine pressed their foreheads together, tenderness overwhelming him again.

“I love you too. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Kurt cocked an eyebrow, curious.

“What we just… what you… um… was that okay?” Okay, he really needed to work on that talking thing.

“You mean… Oh.” Kurt looked amused; more awake now. “Well, it’s not like I’ve never had an orgasm before, Blaine. I do masturbate from time to time, you know?”

Oh. Okay. Blaine definitely should have jerked off before this conversation. He could clearly feel all the remaining blood that wasn’t currently coloring his cheeks flow directly to his cock. The image of Kurt arching and coming like he just did a moment ago, but with his own hand pumping himself through it, wouldn’t budge from the front of Blaine’s mind, rendering him speechless and gaping quite stupidly at his husband. Kurt furrowed his brow, concerned.

“I mean, you do too, right? It’s normal, even I know that. Everyone has sexual urges, it’s completely natural. The best way to deal with them until marriage is masturbation. It’s healthy, safe and recommended to maintain physical and mental wellbeing.” He recited in monotone. “Each and every one of our Biology/Health course books said exactly that, year after year, don’t tell me you never read it?”

Blaine blinked and tried to find enough working brain cells to answer.

“No, yeah, of course, I just mean… It’s a bit different with someone else I guess.”

Kurt shrugged.

“Well, yeah, much better, but other than that? I mean, it’s you. I know I don’t have to be self-conscious around you – it’s not like you haven’t seen me at my worst: slushied, beaten, bruised and bloody, crying, puking, freaking out… Yet you’re still here. I’m fine with it; I trust you. Unless… did I look completely ridiculous?”

“No. You looked completely hot.”

“Ooh, really?”

Reaching up for a kiss with a slight smirk, Kurt adjusted his position a little and Blaine gasped. Kurt’s eyes widened when he registered that his thigh was resting against the bulge still straining Blaine’s pants. He moved his leg again, on purpose this time, and Blaine whimpered. Kurt’s voice was raspy, his breath fast, when he spoke.

“Blaine? Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Anything. Anything you want.”

The smile on Kurt’s face was almost mischievous.

“Anything, hmm? Like this, perhaps?” His lips were back on Blaine’s neck, searching out places with the strongest reactions. “Or this?”

His hand dove under the shirt, fingers raking teasingly across Blaine’s stomach and up through the light dusting of hair on his chest. The fluttering heat spreading, intensifying all over Blaine’s body, it would be so easy to let go now, let himself drown in the sensations – some new, some familiar already, all of them so very desirable – but he tried hard to prolong the pleasure, let it build up some more.

But then Kurt did three things at once; his fingers found Blaine’s nipple and danced around it teasingly, his thigh pressed just a tiny bit harder, and his lips captured Blaine’s in a deep kiss just in time to swallow the keening as he fell helplessly over the edge as if catapulted. The world shattered into a spray of rainbow-colored glitter dust.

By the time he came back down, Kurt was tucked under his arm again, his hand a warm weight on Blaine’s stomach, under his shirt. His face was happy and a little awed, and he smiled.

“Okay, I think I know what you meant. That was gorgeous.”


	6. Chapter 6

Friday was terrible.

Karofsky was particularly obnoxious all day at school, even though he didn’t really do anything much – just stared at Kurt with a creepy, lascivious smile, while appearing out of nowhere everywhere they went. They all had classes together and even in classrooms, with teachers present, Blaine could practically  _feel_  the punk’s eyes on them. It was really getting to Kurt, making him more and more agitated and upset as the morning went by.

During lunch Karofsky sat at the table right next to them with his leather-clad pack of bad boys. At one point he said something quietly to the rest, who chuckled lewdly, and leered at Kurt again, licking his lips with a pierced tongue in a way that made Blaine’s skin crawl. The bastard was clearly enjoying seeing Kurt’s face crumble and his lips tremble.

Blaine acted on instinct. While he would gladly go up there and punch the guy in his metal-laden face, he knew he didn’t stand a chance – there were nine of them, all big, muscled and more than happy to jump into a fight, and Blaine, while strong, was small and lean. So he did the next best thing, something he knew Karofsky would find quite difficult to watch: cupping Kurt’s face, he turned his husband back toward himself and kissed him. Not just a chaste little peck, either. It was deep and dirty, all tongue and teeth, and it only took seconds before Kurt closed his eyes and got lost in the sensation, kissing back with equal passion. He threw his head back when Blaine abandoned his lips to lick and nip his way down his neck, and when he sucked on that one particular spot under Kurt’s jaw, the moan that ripped out of his husband’s throat was loud enough to turn heads in the almost-empty cafeteria. Blaine’s eyes were open all along, trained on the guy he’d began to really, truly hate lately, and he could clearly see the battle of emotions on his face. When Kurt moaned, Karofsky looked like he was going to explode; if looks could kill, Blaine would have just died in a very messy way. Oh, it was so worth it, in spite of the fact that Ms Pillsbury came up to remind them that even though they were newlyweds, they should avoid such blatant displays of affection in public. Kurt blushed furiously – it wasn’t like him to get carried away like that – but Blaine couldn’t find it in himself to regret his actions. Not right then.

The day didn’t improve much after that – Karofsky was keeping up his creepy behavior with even more vigor than before and Kurt was still anxious and upset, but the small purple hickey marking the perfect skin of his husband’s neck somehow made Blaine feel better every time he looked at it. It felt like a promise given to Kurt, written into his very flesh in a most intimate way –  _no one will take you away from me_.

In the afternoon, the day actually got worse. As Blaine was walking to Glee practice after dropping his books off in his locker, he heard a sound of running feet in heavy boots. Before he knew it, Karofsky had him cornered in the empty corridor and was towering over him menacingly, way too close for comfort.

Blaine felt slow, cold waves of fear spread in his chest. There was no one around – classes were over and the choir room and gym, the only places where there were any extracurriculars that afternoon, were far enough that no one would hear him scream if Karofsky decided to beat him up, or worse. He knew the guy was fully capable of doing that, too; the scars on Kurt’s arms and chest from the “accidental” fall down the stairs and right through the glass door last year were evidence enough. Rumor had it, Karofsky even stabbed someone in a bar fight once.

Now, with the guy’s pierced eyebrows mere inches from his own, Blaine could barely breathe. He was grateful Kurt wasn’t there. He would undoubtedly do something heroically stupid and get hurt; and Blaine really preferred to get beaten himself than let anything happen to Kurt.

Except… After a tense lifetime that was probably really just a minute or so, Karofsky snorted and spoke hoarsely, with an ugly smirk.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Trying to show me how he’s  _yours_? Pathetic. If it’s all so good in that little marriage of yours, how come you still haven’t fucked him, huh? You’re small, but I’ve seen those biceps. I’m sure you’d easily manage to press him into the bed and have your way with him. So why haven’t you? You could be sure I won’t get him, then. You could be certain he’ll be yours forever. The clock is ticking, Anderson. Only ten days left. I’m waiting.”

And just like that, he pushed off from the wall and was gone. Blaine stood alone, shaking with a mixture of disgust and relief, and feeling dirty from what he just heard.

He knew what Karofsky was trying to do – push them apart, make them rush into something they – or at least Kurt – weren’t ready for, on his conditions instead of their own. And the worst thing was, it was working, in a way. Blaine felt doubt creeping in on him, fear that they wouldn’t manage to go through with this and would get separated by the law. And he knew that if  _he_  felt like this, Kurt had to be so much worse, even more uncertain and afraid. It was like poison, seeping slowly into their blood and minds.

Neither Blaine nor Kurt could focus during rehearsal – they kept messing up choreography and singing below their abilities. It seemed to be infectious, too – soon everyone in Glee club was edgy and irritated for no apparent reason, and when they all finally packed into a bus to go perform at an evening event in a neighboring town, moods were sour. The performance went poorly, at least for their standards, and to add insult to injury, the bus broke down on their way back. They ended up spending two hours sitting in the middle of nowhere, everyone tired and arguing about every little thing, until another bus came to get them.

It was after midnight when Blaine finally got to bed, only to find his husband curled up on himself, staring blankly ahead. He lay his hand on Kurt’s shoulder, hesitant, and was relieved to feel him relax a little into the touch. Encouraged, Blaine moved closer and kissed the back of Kurt’s neck before murmuring right into his skin.

“Hey, I know you probably don’t want to talk yet… or do you?” Kurt shook his head minutely. “But you know… you’re not alone anymore. It’s okay to lean on me, I want you to know that. I want to be here for you, always.”

He felt Kurt stiffen, but then his shoulders shook and he turned. In the next instant, he was clinging to Blaine’s chest, sobbing, as if afraid of ever letting go. Blaine held him as close as physically possible, but it wasn’t enough. His face tear-streaked, Kurt pulled away after only a moment.

“I need you closer, need to  _feel_  you, can you…?” It took a pull at Blaine’s t-shirt to understand, but then he complied immediately, pulling it off. Kurt stripped his own shirt too and lay down with his head on Blaine’s chest, over his heart.

Skin on warm skin, safely hidden in a cocoon of Blaine’s embrace and a soft, fluffy duvet, Kurt cried until there were no more tears. Blaine just held him, every now and then kissing his forehead or whispering words of love and promises that they would be fine. He wished he could do more, but this had to be enough, for now.

 

Blaine woke up to fingers dancing in complicated patterns over the skin of his stomach. They must have been there for a while, because his cock had already gotten the memo and was waiting impatiently for his brain to catch up. He hummed with pleasure and opened his eyes, already smiling in anticipation of what he’d see – and he wasn’t disappointed. A pair of bright eyes, grayish green in the morning sun, greeted him with a serene smile from where Kurt was resting his chin on Blaine’s bare chest.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. Did you know that I’d never thought I could like chest hair? And now I can’t stop staring and touching.”

Kurt raked his fingers up Blaine’s chest, causing his nipples to harden in anticipation. The duvet had partially slid off, but the goosebumps on Blaine’s arms had nothing to do with cold; in fact, he felt very, very hot all of a sudden. It got even hotter when Kurt pressed a soft kiss, ending with a kitten lick, right on his nipple, and Blaine gasped. Kurt continued drawing lazy patterns with his fingers as he spoke.

“Let’s just do it, what do you think? Right now.”

And okay, Blaine might have been blissed out, but not  _that_ blissed out. His eyes snapped open and the analytical part of his brain switched on immediately as he looked at Kurt, taking in his expression – calm, but with a hint of tension around the eyes; his body that seemed relaxed, but not in this boneless way that he’d already learned to associate with the way Kurt felt when really turned on. But mostly Kurt’s eyes; seemingly calm and earnest, but looking anywhere except in Blaine’s own. Yesterday came back to him with a nauseating jolt and he winced internally.  _Hell no_. His face carefully neutral, he asked.

“You want to?”

Kurt nodded, his eyes still trained on Blaine’s nipple.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then say it.”

That finally provoked Kurt to look him in the eyes with a slightly shocked expression.

“What?”

Blaine calmly kept his gaze.

“Tell me what you want. Just say it.”

Kurt took a deep breath, his façade already fraying at the edges.

“I want us to have s-“ he broke off, tried again. “Let’s just have… have sex. Now. Please.”

There was nothing relaxed or calm about Kurt now; he was a mess of tense muscles and anxiety, biting his lower lip in a way that would have been irresistibly sexy if it wasn’t because of how stressed he was. Blaine shook his head.

“No. Not today, not like this. Not when you’re only doing this because of Karofsky.”

“But… it’s a weekend, we could easily have the 24 hours…”

“We can easily have 24 hours any other day too. I won’t make love to you on anyone’s conditions but our own.” Blaine combed his fingers through Kurt’s hair in a loving caress and realized his husband had frozen still, his eyes wide. He frowned. “What?”

Kurt blinked.

“What you said-“

Blaine played the last sentences back in his head a few times before it dawned on him.

“What, about making love to you? That’s what it will be, when we do, that’s what I want. Everyone can have sex, you know, but I’m pretty sure what we have is pretty rare.” He shrugged, blushing slightly. “Yeah, I know, it’s cheesy. But that’s how I see it.”

Kurt was still looking at him wide-eyed, unblinking; then suddenly jerked forward to kiss Blaine hard on the lips and whisper breathlessly.

“Not cheesy. Perfect.”

 

They stayed in bed, just cuddling and talking, every now and then exchanging languid kisses and touching bare skin with reverent fingers. At one point, Blaine wondered aloud.

“I don’t get it. You have no problem with talking about masturbation, with making out or making each other come, but one mention of sex and you fall apart.”

Kurt shrugged.

“Because all these things are natural, you know? It just… feels right. My body tells me I want it. When I think about sex, it feels to me like violence and intrusion; I keep seeing those awful pictures and diagrams, ugh.” He shuddered.

When they got up an hour later, they had the weekend planned: shopping first, to let Kurt make changes in Blaine’s wardrobe that he deemed necessary, back home for dinner, then out again, to a party at Rachel’s. Sunday would be spent with Blaine’s parents who invited them over. Sex wasn’t on the itinerary.

Somehow, though, something changed over the weekend. Unnoticed at first, but growing, by Sunday almost buzzing in the air between them – the sexual tension, vibes that made the tiny hair on the back of Blaine’s neck stand and his skin tingle. Kurt could feel it too, he knew – the looks they were passing between them, the constant touching, seemingly by accident- they all screamed of desire to be closer. By Sunday noon they wanted nothing more than to leave the Andersons’ house and get home as fast as they could, but they’d promised to stay for dinner, and Blaine’s mum prepared their favorite dishes, so there was no backing out now.

But it felt like pure torture. Blaine was oscillating between being half- and fully hard all day and finally it got so bad that he couldn’t even look at his husband without the urge to just grab him, press him against a wall and kiss senseless. Among other things.

He didn’t know what got into him, honestly. But there was something about Kurt… Something different and hard to qualify, to put his finger on. Some… openness? Something in his eyes, the way he moved? Whatever it was, Blaine couldn’t get enough.

Dinner stretched unbearably and by the time his mom got up to bring cake, Blaine was ready to scream. He’d been sitting right next to Kurt, their knees and hands touching every so often, sending sparks of arousal down his spine and making it difficult to talk coherently. Fortunately, his dad took one long look at them and their desperation must have shown, somehow, because he chuckled quietly and took his wife’s hand.

“Darling, I think the boys would prefer to eat the cake at home, over coffee. They have school tomorrow and probably a lot to do tonight, so…”

Blaine had never been so grateful for his father’s perceptiveness.

They barely made it to the bedroom before they were all over each other, dropping on the bed in a tangle of limbs, stripping their shirts. And if Blaine had any lingering doubts whether Kurt wanted this quite as much as he did, the way his husband immediately straddled his hips, pressing against him with a groan, was more than answer enough.

Blaine had ideas and plans for their promised 24 hours that were all about showing things to Kurt, loving him – but here, now, it was all  _Kurt_ in control, leading them, showing direction. It was him who kept the steady rhythm in which they were grinding against each other, him that devoured Blaine’s lips with unhindered passion, who sucked on his neck, marking it without even thinking about it. It was skin sliding against skin as their chests rubbed together, and silent explosions of overwhelming pleasure from the perfect friction between their cocks.

Blaine was simultaneously lost in their little world and hyperaware of all the details – the drops of sweat on Kurt’s neck, glinting in the dimming light from the window; the way he looked free, unrestrained, completely uninhibited. The delightful little sounds that kept escaping Kurt’s lips on every exhale,  _oh_ , and  _yes_ , and  _Blaine_  breathed in a hoarse whisper. He felt heat coiling tighter and tighter low in his belly, and if the way Kurt’s hips were stuttering ever more jaggedly, chaotically, was anything to go by, he was not the only one close,  _so close_.

“I love you”, he whispered, and it must have been just the right thing to say, because Kurt moaned and tensed all over, his hips just jerking minutely, his fingers tightening on Blaine’s biceps, hard enough to bruise. Two upward thrusts against him and Blaine was coming too, Kurt’s name on his lips.

Somewhere on the gentle slide down into post-orgasmic bliss, with Kurt a warm sweet weight over him, revelation hit Blaine like a chance boomerang: that was it. It was  _right_ , they were ready.

Kurt hummed dreamily above him.

“You know what?”

Blaine smiled.

“What?”

“I really,  _really_  need to pee.” Blaine snorted so hard that Kurt almost rolled off him, which earned him a glare before Kurt continued. “And shower, because eww. It’s really quite impractical to keep doing this in our clothes, don’t you think?”

And with that, he was off the bed and on his way to the bathroom, leaving Blaine smiling widely to himself.


	7. Chapter 7

Monday was uneventful, just another ordinary day. Except it wasn’t. Even if Blaine was the only one who knew it so far.

They spent the afternoon at home, busy with cleaning, laundry, making dinner and baking cookies because Kurt had a sudden attack of channeling Martha Stewart. It was after ten when they took their turns showering, rinsing the flour dust that may or may not have been the result of a brief food fight, from their skin and hair. And okay, Kurt might have also had to clean the sticky remains of Nutella off his nose and neck, even though Blaine would swear he’d done a pretty good job licking it off. Twice. Because it sort of… smeared itself back on, somehow. Completely by accident, of course.

Blaine was waiting in bed for Kurt to finish his nighttime skincare routine ( _Blaine, do you have any idea how the sugar and fat in that stuff clogs pores?_ ) while watching the hands of the clock on the wall. It was 10:34 when his husband came to bed and snuggled closer for a goodnight kiss or two. Blaine took a deep, shuddering breath when they parted. It was time. He could do this.  _Courage_

“Kurt. I’d like to ask you for the 24 hours now.”

He felt his husband tense in his arms.

“The 24 hours for sex.” It wasn’t even a question.

“The 24 hours to let me show you that intimacy can be beautiful when it’s with a person you love and who loves you.”

Kurt relaxed minutely, his face softening.

“But now? It’s a school day tomorrow.”

“I know. It doesn’t matter. You didn’t expect me to tie you to the bed for the whole time, did you?”

“No, but… Okay, I don’t know what I expected. Expect. So… We’re doing this, then? 24 hours to try this and to consummate the marriage and after that…”

“If tomorrow at” Blaine glanced at the clock again, “10:40 you say you don’t want to ever do any of this again, we’ll stick to whatever you’re comfortable with. And I swear I won’t do anything that could even remotely hurt you, but if anything bothers you at all, I want you to tell me and I’ll stop immediately. Deal?”

Kurt sighed and his voice trembled a little, but he held his chin up bravely.

“Deal. So what do you want me to do? Should I take my clothes off now?”

“Just your shirt. And you don’t have to do anything but trust me and enjoy.”

Skepticism was clear on Kurt’s face and for a minute Blaine felt doubt creep up on him again. What was he doing? Reading about these things and fantasizing about this moment didn’t make him an expert. What if he screwed everything up?

But then he breathed deeper and forced himself to relax. There was nothing to screw up. In the worst case scenario things could get awkward because of their inexperience, but they would deal with that. He would just enjoy making love to his gorgeous husband, that’s all.

Kurt was already shirtless, lying on his back, and Blaine quickly pulled off his own t-shirt before leaning down into a kiss. It started slow and soft, but got deeper and more passionate as Kurt gradually relaxed into the familiar territory. Blaine lay his hand on his husband’s chest, right over his heart, and let his lips travel slowly down, in little kisses and sweet kitten licks – under Kurt’s jaw, down the slope of his throat, across the collarbone, until they rested exactly where his hand now uncovered a long white scar, the one Kurt was most self-conscious about. It was only one of dozens that littered the smooth fair skin of Kurt’s chest and arms, but it was the most visible one – the one left by the largest glass shard that had lodged itself deep in the muscle when Kurt fell through the glass door last year. Blaine kissed it now and Kurt tensed.

“Don’t, it’s ugly.”

He didn’t stop kissing, moving his lips towards Kurt’s sternum and over to a nipple to give it the attention it deserved – slowly laving it with his tongue, breathing over it, fascinated by the way it tightened as he watched, then sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over and around. Kurt moaned and arched into the caress. Never stopping, Blaine slid his fingers to the other nipple, already hard and waiting, to tease it for a moment before raking his fingers down his husband’s side. Any hesitation forgotten, Kurt was now fully into it, his eyes closed, head thrown back and Blaine couldn’t refuse such an invitation.

From what he already knew, Kurt had incredibly sensitive skin. Blaine was eager to explore and map all the spots that made him shiver and lose control, but now he came back to the ones he already knew: the junction between shoulder and neck; that particular point halfway up his neck; the sweet hollow right under his ear. He kissed and licked, allowing his hand to wander, tracing the lines of Kurt’s toned stomach. Blaine’s fingertips danced around his husband’s navel and down over the trail of soft hair; they slid leisurely along the waistband and Kurt’s breathing sped up even further, little whimpers escaping his lips.

Nipping lightly on the earlobe, Blaine whispered hotly against Kurt’s ear, his hand never stopping its slow, almost hypnotic motion.

“You’re so beautiful, Kurt. Every inch of you; your face, your body, your heart and mind. I love the way you smile when you wake up in the morning and see me. I love how your eyes change colors with the weather and light and your mood. I love how expressive your face is and how you let me really see you, the real you, because you trust me. I love your scars, too, even if I’d prefer you could have never had to go through what you have – but they show who you are, and you’re a fighter, Kurt. You’re strong and amazing, and no one is gonna break you, ever. You make me the happiest man on Earth by being my husband.”

Kurt was shivering all over from the words and sensations, and when Blaine dragged his teeth lightly over the side of his neck, he cried out and tangled his fingers in his husband’s curls, pulling slightly as he whined.

“Blaine, please…”

Slowly, so light they were barely there, Blaine slid his fingers over the thin cotton of Kurt’s pajama pants until his hand rested fully on his husband’s cock, hard and straining the fabric. And while he hadn’t paid much attention to his own arousal up till now, fully focused on Kurt, he couldn’t suppress a needy groan, feeling how the hot length fit into his hand. He wanted nothing more than to slide Kurt’s pants down and touch him –  _really_  touch him, skin on skin, warm and perfect. But he’d promised himself he’d go slow, so he resisted, just moving his hand in calm, fluid motion, applying a little pressure.  _Up and down_ , lips back on the nipple;  _up, down_ , Kurt’s voice high and breathless, like a wordless chant, like a plea, until it broke and-

Kurt’s cock pulsed under Blaine’s hand, come quickly seeping through the cotton to leave Blaine’s fingers wet and slippery, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from shamelessly rutting against Kurt’s thigh in a desperate desire to come too. Instead, he stroked Kurt through the aftershocks and then just held him in his arms, waiting for him to come back down.

After a long while, Kurt’s breathing returned to normal and he stirred, not opening his eyes.

“Blaine? Not that I’m complaining, because I think I might start to believe in heaven after all, but weren’t we supposed to have sex?”

Blaine chuckled softly and kissed his husband’s shoulder.

“You’re far too eloquent for someone in a post-orgasmic state. I think I need to try harder next time. And this  _was_  sex. What we did on Sunday?  _Also_  sex. What we’re going to do tomorrow? That, too.”

That made Kurt open his eyes and frown a little, nervously.

“And what  _are_  we going to do tomorrow? Besides the obvious?”

“You’ll see. I think you’ll like it, too. Now, time to sleep, we have school in the morning.”

“What about you?” Kurt eyed the bulge in his husband’s pants, but Blaine managed to resist and shake his head.

“I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so… I’ll be right back.”

Kurt got up and went to the bathroom, grabbing his shirt and a fresh pair of pants on the way. Blaine shook his head.

“Could you leave your shirt off?”

Kurt nodded and put it back down. Five minutes later he was already asleep and breathing peacefully, his bare back pressed against Blaine’s chest.

Blaine slept fitfully that night, not trusting his inner clock to wake him up on time, earlier than usual. At six he was already fully awake, excitement and arousal bubbling in his veins and tingling under his skin. Kurt was still in the little spoon position, which made Blaine’s plan fit perfectly.

He started by pressing soft kisses to his husband’s shoulder and the nape of his neck while his hand smoothed slowly up his stomach and across his chest. He felt the moment Kurt woke up, stiffening briefly, but then he melted back into Blaine’s embrace and stayed like that, only the changes in his breathing indicating he felt and was taking in what was happening. Blaine filed his reactions away for later use – the quickening of Kurt’s breath as he kissed his shoulder blade or stroked his side; the hitch in it when he licked his way down the spine or teased a nipple. The helpless, quiet whimper when Blaine’s hand slid down to Kurt’s hip and further under the fabric of his pants.

Feeling Kurt’s body shake in anticipation, Blaine paused and sucked on the pulse point on his husband’s neck, hard enough to mark. Kurt finally broke the silence, moaning loudly, and pressed back against Blaine.

“Touch me, please,  _please_  touch me already. I need to…  _oh… oh, yes_ …”

Blaine’s fingers closed around the shaft of Kurt’s cock and he couldn’t suppress a moan himself, his hips stuttering forward of their own volition. He had to stop for a moment, breathing deep against the nape of his husband’s neck, his hand unmoving, because he was suddenly right on the edge, threatening to fall. It was just… he knew he was gay, he’d known for years, it had defined him in so many ways, but this… The feel of another man’s – his husband’s – hard cock in his hand really, truly drove it home. He. Was. Gay. No doubts about it. And so happy with it now.

Kurt let out a high pleading sound and Blaine started moving his hand, stroking him experimentally – slow, then a little faster, gripping tighter, before Kurt stilled his hand and tugged at his own waistband.

“Wait.”

Seconds later, Kurt’s pants were kicked off and Blaine could move his hand easier without the fabric restricting his wrist. He felt like they were synchronized all of a sudden; every stroke of his hand on Kurt’s cock sent waves of pleasure down his own spine; every moan from his husband’s lips was echoed by a gasp or groan from his own. And when after mere minutes Kurt cried out and spilled all over Blaine’s hand, the swell of his ass pressing back was enough for Blaine to come too, hard and blinding, biting down on Kurt’s shoulder.

A moment later they were lying side by side, still panting and grinning widely.

“Best wake-up ever.” Kurt sighed blissfully.

“Yeah?”

“Mm.”

Blaine glanced at the clock; time to get up. He didn’t feel like it, not at all; maybe just five minutes longer?

“So who showers first?”

Kurt looked at him mischievously.

“Why don’t we go together?”


	8. Chapter 8

When Kurt got up from their bed and stretched, Blaine found himself transfixed by his husband’s lean body – toned and delicately sculpted, perfectly proportionate. He’d always known that Kurt had amazing legs (and ass – so sue him, he’d looked at his best friend’s ass sometimes, fine!) – the skintight pants he liked wearing left little to imagination – but seeing him naked was another matter entirely. Blaine could feel arousal stir again, even though he’d  _just_  come.

A low, fond chuckle shook him out of his reverie; when he managed to look up, blushing, at Kurt’s face, he found it honestly amused.

“Are you done staring? Because we need to move on, if I’m not mistaken.”

Blaine nodded and followed him to the bathroom, the cold stickiness in his pants somewhat gross and uncomfortable, but when it came to taking them off and getting into their spacious shower, he suddenly felt awkward. How did Kurt do this? How did he manage to not be self-conscious at all? He realized he actually wondered aloud when Kurt answered.

“I’m plenty self-conscious, believe me. Just not with you, somehow. And  _please_ , you are the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met, I had  _dreams_ about seeing you naked, which made it difficult to look you in the eyes for weeks afterwards, so really. No need to be self-conscious, Blaine.”

He nodded, took a deep breath and slid his pajama pants down, stepping out of them. His eyes were set down, so he only heard his husband’s reaction – a soft gasp, but the first thing he saw looking up was the way Kurt’s cock was twitching, quickly getting harder again. Well, that had to be a good sign, right? They really didn’t have time though, not for anything other than a quick shower, but after school… Yes, after school it would be another matter entirely.

While showering, they did their best not to touch each other. Too much. But Blaine couldn’t say  _no_  when his own husband asked him for permission to touch his dick, could he? It was probably written somewhere in a marriage rulebook:  _You shall allow your spouse to touch your genitalia when you’re taking a shower together and they’re looking at you with an awed and hungry, yet reverent expression – even if it makes you both get carried away, skip breakfast and almost be late for school._  Or something along those lines. Right? Right.

Their hunger for each other temporarily sated, there was a chance they would survive classes and Glee practice somehow – not that Blaine intended to make it easy for Kurt. Of course not.

He didn’t do much – just let himself  _look_ , for once; long, lingering stares and suggestive glances timed just so that Kurt would notice; at his lips, his hands, his ass; at the hickey, perfectly visible on the side of his neck. There might have been other teasing little things Blaine did – licking his lips, nibbling at the end of a pencil, stretching in a way that showed just a bit of skin over the waistband. And if he whispered in his husband’s ear just how beautiful he was, how hot; how amazing he looked this morning and how talented his hands were – well, he was pretty sure that complimenting your significant other was a good thing.

Okay, maybe he  _did_  deserve the bitch face and even the punch in the arm for spending half of his Spanish class texting Kurt, who had French instead, with detailed descriptions of how he wanted to kiss and lick him all over,  _everywhere_ , when they got home – it may have been a bit too much teasing when they still had over three hours before they could get to it. But the results were totally worth it when they finally –  _finally_ _!_  – closed the door to their apartment behind them that afternoon.

Seconds after crossing the threshold Blaine found himself pressed against the door, his hands pinned over his head and his husband’s strong body flush against him. Kurt  _growled_  before kissing him, hard and demanding, and Blaine’s head swam from the amount of blood that left it rapidly to travel south. Pulling back to bite at the side of his husband’s neck and suck, Kurt moved his hips a little, enough to make sure that Blaine felt just how hard and desperate he was. His voice was gravelly as he spoke.

“You can’t do that to me, Blaine. You can’t look at me like you did all day, talk to me like that, send me messages that make me so hard it hurts and barely able to remember my own name, in  _class_. Not when I know I can do nothing about it. Not after this morning.”

Blaine had to ask, his voice breathy and strained with desire.

“What about this morning, Kurt?”

“Fuck, Blaine.” Kurt didn’t normally swear, he wasn’t the type. Blaine whimpered, shocked by how  _hot_  he found it. “This morning was everything you promised me and more. I’ve never realized it could be so amazing and so loving at the same time. And you’ve been teasing me all day and now I just want more, and  _dammit_ , could we get to it at last?”

Kurt’s grip lost a little of its desperation now and he slumped against Blaine instead, his hands letting go and coming down to embrace his husband’s shoulders. Leaning in to whisper right into his ear, Blaine answered without hesitation.

“Go to the bedroom. And get naked.”

Kurt’s breath picked up speed immediately; he moved without a word. When Blaine entered the room, Kurt’s shirt was already halfway unbuttoned. Not even a minute later he stood by the bed naked, blushing only slightly as he looked boldly into Blaine’s eyes.

“Could you undress too? I want to be able to see you.”

It was easier, this time. Before long they were both on the bed, naked and kissing, and soon Kurt was arching and thrashing, his hands clenching into the duvet, as Blaine explored, his lips and tongue and hands discovering more and more sensitive spots on his husband’s body. He’d read about erogenous zones, seen the schematics, but this was insane – it was as if the entirety of Kurt’s skin had twice, maybe thrice as many nerve endings as his own. Every touch, kiss, slide of tongue made the boy crazy, some places more than others – his sides and upper arms; his neck and wrists; most of his back, his thighs… Seeing Kurt so turned on, hearing his reactions,  _feeling_  them under the gentle press of his palms and lips, in the tremble of Kurt’s muscle and heat of his skin,  _did_  things to Blaine. Without being touched once, he was fully hard, drops of pre-come gathering at the tip of his throbbing cock.

Pushed by an urge he couldn’t – didn’t want to – fight any longer, Blaine finally moved to lick a long line up Kurt’s cock, making his husband stiffen and choke out.

“Fuck, Blaine, what are you-“

But then his tongue got to the shiny pink head and anything Kurt might have wanted to say was drowned in breathless keening as Blaine lapped at the drops of slick wetness gathered in the slit. He’d been curious about the taste; barely stopped himself from licking his own hand that morning to try – he’d figured it might have freaked Kurt out though. But now the small amount he licked off only made him want more, to taste properly. Quickly remembering all advice from the book that he’d almost memorized before the wedding, Blaine sunk his mouth slowly over Kurt’s beautiful, thick cock. And moaned.

It felt divine, filling his mouth like this. He didn’t take it in too deep, not this first time – barely got an inch or so below the head, but he could already tell he would love it. He really,  _really_  hoped he would get to do this again. And again, and again. He could live without having anal sex, he wouldn’t mind too much, but this? He wanted to be able to do this every day, to worship Kurt’s cock on his knees, to learn to take it in deeper, gain confidence… Right now though, he only managed to slide his head up and down a couple of times and suck experimentally once before Kurt was  _sobbing_  his name and coming all over his tongue, and  _wow_  did he enjoy that. The come was salty and a little bitter, and felt new and strange in his mouth, but there was something addictive about it. Maybe because of the knowledge that it was part of Kurt and _Blaine_  did this, made his husband come so hard that he was still shaking all over and keening helplessly.

Having licked off every last drop Kurt would give him, Blaine climbed up the bed to lie by his husband’s side and wait for him to come back down. He hoped Kurt had liked it – his reactions suggested he did, but until Blaine heard him say it, he couldn’t be sure. The book mentioned that not every man liked oral sex.

Apparently though Kurt had nothing against it after all, because as soon as he opened his eyes, he sighed dreamily.

“I think I died for a minute.” Then he glanced down at Blaine’s erection, still in full bloom, and his eyes shone. “Can I try too? Please?”

Blaine barely managed to nod, stunned, before Kurt was up on his knees and over him, reaching right to his cock with a sure hand. When had he suddenly graduated from baby penguin to sex god? Not that Blaine complained, especially when Kurt moved to part his legs and kneel between them, and the  _other_  things that he could do in this position flashed through Blaine’s mind, taking his breath away for a moment.  _No_ , he chastised himself,  _we’re not going there; focus on what you can have_. His husband’s hand started to stroke him slowly right then, so it was quite easy to do.

Kurt seemed fascinated with what he was doing; watching with wide eyes how his hand slid easily up and down Blaine’s cock, slick with pre-come. After barely a few strokes though he leaned down and Blaine was suddenly torn between watching him shyly lick the head of his dick like a lollipop, with his wet pink tongue, and trying his best not to come on the spot. The first seriously interfered with the second, and when Kurt opened his mouth and sunk down, head of the cock disappearing between his full red lips, Blaine’s eyes rolled back and he arched, biting his hand hard to distract himself.

It helped for a moment – until Kurt took him in deeper and started to establish some kind of rhythm with his mouth sucking gently and his hand stroking the part of shaft that didn’t fit in. Blaine tangled the fingers of his free hand in his husband’s hair; the wet, hot, velvet smooth sensation was better than anything he’d ever thought or believed possible. It sent him higher and higher, impossibly weightless and unable to care about the intensity of his reactions, the sounds he was making, loud and unrestricted. All too soon he had to tug on Kurt’s hair though, trying to warn him with a choked “Kurt, close”. The delightful lips disappeared, but before he could protest the painful loss, Kurt’s hand was doing something amazing, stroking faster and harder, twisting under the head, and Blaine could only hold on for dear life as the world exploded inside his head before slowly, gradually rearranging itself, somewhat better and brighter than before.

Kurt was watching him with wide, darkened eyes when Blaine opened his, and there was something almost hungry in his expression before he brought up his hand, spattered with come, and licked a finger – hesitantly at first, but then eagerly sucking it clean with a satisfied hum. He murmured.

“You look gorgeous when you come, but I think I want to try and stay till the end next time.”

Blaine’s heart pounded hard in his chest.

“There will be a next time?”

Kurt’s laugh sounded like a silver chime.

“Of course there will. Lots of next times, we have a lifetime together to look forward to, after all. And I’m completely converted. So far, at least.” Blaine beamed.  _Yes!_  “By the way, where did you learn about all this?”

Reaching deep into the drawer of his nightstand, Blaine pulled out a well-read book. It was titled  _Loving Sex: The Gay Man's Guide to Intimacy_  and there was a beautiful photograph of two young men kissing on the cover. The bands on their fingers showed that they were married and the way they looked at each other suggested they were deeply in love. Kurt wiped his hands and took the book curiously.

Blaine settled by his side, talking about how he got it from his parents, days after coming home from their sex-ed class upset and scared. Kurt was looking through the book with wide eyes – nothing like this was available to teenagers, not without an adult buying it for them. There were many tasteful erotic photographs inside and descriptions of the whole spectrum of sexual experiences available to gay men – from arousal, masturbation and kissing, through different sexual activities like handjobs, blowjobs and frottage, to a long chapter about anal sex. Everything was described in detail without making it sound dirty or scary, and the context of love and intimacy in a long-term relationship was strongly stressed upon all along.

Blaine could see Kurt’s curiosity peak as he thumbed through the book, so he stretched and got up.

“I’ll go take a shower and then make pasta for dinner. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Kurt just nodded, already stretched on his stomach, reading, and Blaine smiled, leaving the room.


	9. Chapter 9

They spent the evening watching a movie, cuddled up together on the couch, but for the last hour Kurt was visibly tense and anxious; he kept glancing at the clock every five minutes until finally Blaine paused the DVD.

“Kurt, is something bothering you?”

“No, but… It’s almost ten and we still haven’t, you know…”

Blaine frowned.

“Actually, I don’t.”

Kurt blushed deeply, but pushed through.

“We still haven’t had sex. Um… anal sex, I mean. And the 24 hours are almost over.”

_Oh_. So Kurt still thought he would press him? Blaine smiled and stroke his husband’s pink cheek.

“That’s because we’re not doing it.” Kurt’s eyebrows nearly met his hairline. “Why are you surprised? You said you don’t want to and I respect that.”

“But… the consummation? I’m not going to let anyone take you away from me, Blaine.”

Warmth spread in Blaine’s chest, the wonderful fuzzy feeling of being  _wanted_ , being  _loved_  like a fluffy blanket around his heart. He smiled and kissed Kurt softly.

“There is a  _very_  slight chance that we get a judge who considers anal sex as required for consummation, and if we do, we have a right to appeal. We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. Everything we did was amazing and I’m grateful for the trust you put in me; we don’t have to go any further than you’re comfortable with.”

Kurt nodded, accepting, but the frown on his face didn’t disappear. He sat there, biting his lip, as if fighting with himself. What about, though?

“Kurt?” He mumbled something in response, barely audible, and Blaine shook his head, a bit concerned now. “Hey, tell me. What’s on your mind?”

Kurt took a deep breath, as if deciding something, and looked him in the eyes at last. His voice trembled a little when he spoke.

“I think… I want to try it anyway. I mean, if you’re still interested in um…,” it broke a little at the end, coming out as barely a whisper, “bottoming.”

Blaine inhaled sharply, afraid he misheard.

“Wait. You want to try…”

“To make love to you, yes.” Kurt sounded braver now. “If you want to.”

“I do.” Blaine’s answer was immediate; he had no doubts about it. “But are you sure?”

“Yes. Are  _you_?”

“I am. Definitely.” But Blaine’s hands shook already and he knew that Kurt must have noticed. “I just… didn’t expect this and… Give me a minute?”

Kurt cuddled closer and Blaine sank into his arms, his body relaxing again even before he heard his husband whisper into his ear.

“I will stop immediately if you tell me to. And I’ll go slow and gentle, just like I’ve read in your book. But please, don’t feel pressured, okay? I would never push you to do anything you don’t want.”

Excitement was already taking place of anxiety in Blaine’s mind though, and he smiled easily as he answered.

“No, I really want this. Come on. Ready?”

“Ready.”

Holding hands, they went to their bedroom again, to make the last big step into intimacy.

Before Blaine knew it, everything was ready – dimmed lights and soft, quiet music in the background, washcloths in a bowl of warm water and wipes by the bed, condoms and lubricant on the nightstand. And Kurt. Beautiful, blushing Kurt, with awe and pure love in his eyes as he undressed Blaine unhurriedly, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin. Once there was not a stitch of fabric left between his fingertips and Blaine’s warm skin, he slipped off his own clothes and they lay down, close enough to be breathing each other in. Their bodies were touching everywhere they could – their legs tangled, hips and chests pressed together, their fingers intertwined and lips sharing deep, languid kisses.

They worked together seamlessly without a single word, their minds and bodies in perfect harmony. Acting and reacting, giving and taking – it was balanced and surprisingly easy, and still, Blaine could hardly believe it was happening. He’d accepted they wouldn’t do this, and yet here he was, Kurt’s gentle fingers and hot lips all over him, his whispered words of love and praise almost worshipping.

Kurt couldn’t possibly be more attentive and careful as he finally stopped just teasing Blaine’s entrance with his slickened fingertips and slid the first finger in, slow and deep, with hardly any resistance. They both gasped. Blaine had tried to finger himself, once; but the angle had been uncomfortable and it had just felt strange. Now though, with Kurt, it was completely different – exciting and arousing, and not at all weird. Kurt took his time before adding the second finger and with the wiggling and stretching, things suddenly became  _much_  more intense. Blaine got to the point of keening and begging before his husband even pushed the third finger in, the stretch – though initially mildly uncomfortable – just adding to the hot waves of pleasure coursing through his veins and then…

The alarm in Blaine’s phone went off.

Kurt looked at him incredulously before reaching with his free hand to turn it off; the fingers of the other one still deep in Blaine’s ass, but their blood-boiling movement paused. It took Blaine a minute to activate enough brain cells to remember what it was all about and when he did, a beat of anxiety shot through him.

“It was the signal that the 24 hours are over. So… do you want to stop?”

Kurt looked at him as if he’d suddenly grown a nice set of tentacles.

“You  _are_  kidding, I hope? Do you  _want_  me to stop?” With this, he moved his fingers again – out slow and back in again, deep, even deeper, dragging a fingertip right over that one perfect spot – and Blaine saw stars.

“Fuck, no. Please, please don’t stop; never ever stop, this is fucking divine, Kurt-  _oh_ …”

Suddenly, the wonderful sensation was gone and the loss was almost painful, the need to be filled again overwhelming. Blaine opened his eyes to look at Kurt and  _beg_ , only to see him focused on putting the condom on and  _damn_ , that shouldn’t be so hot, should it? It was, though, both in the beauty of Kurt, gorgeously naked and flushed, with mussed hair, even more sexy than ever, and in the anticipation of what would come in just a moment. Blaine’s breath caught in his throat.

Kurt crawled up to kiss him softly, their bodies pressing together again.

“Still sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay. Promise to tell me if you want me to stop or pause, or slow down – anything.”

“I will, I promise. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And with that, Kurt was kneeling back, pushing Blaine’s knees up and aligning his cock with the entrance. Blaine’s heart was pounding hard and fast; this was it. Kurt didn’t push in though, not yet. He leaned over Blaine with his hands on the bed on either side of his head, and looked him seriously in the eyes, his own dark and wide. It was hard to believe the change in Kurt – he looked so in control now, calm and certain, as if deciding to do this and educating himself was enough to leave any hesitation and fear behind the bedroom’s door. His voice was soft when he spoke.

“Love, I will try my best not to hurt you, but if I will, even a little bit, I want you to bite on my forearm, just as hard.” Blaine started to protest – it was crazy, really, but Kurt interrupted him. “Please, Blaine, just do that. Pain for pain, if there is any. Please, I know it’s weird, but I need this, okay?”

Blaine could do nothing but nod, and Kurt moved. Ever so slow and gentle, he pushed in, against the resistance of the tight ring of muscles.

It felt like so much more than fingers; the building stretch grew intense and oh  _fuck_ , that hurt. Not overwhelmingly so, not enough to want to stop, but bad enough that Blaine squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head, finding Kurt’s forearm right there and biting on it, hard, trying to keep his body relaxed in spite of the instinct to tense his muscles and pull away.

Kurt didn’t withdraw his arm, didn’t budge. As soon as just the head of his cock was inside, he froze to let Blaine’s body adjust to the intrusion. The short pain quickly lessened to an ache, and then mere discomfort, and Blaine let go of Kurt’s forearm, feeling immediately guilty when he saw the deep purple indentations, not breaking skin, but sure to leave a bruise. Kurt caught his eye though and smiled.

“It’s fine. How are you?”

“Good. You can move.”

Kurt started with tiny, gentle thrusts that got him gradually deeper without causing anything more than a stretching, filling sensation, and before long he was fully in, breathing fast and shallow. Blaine moaned. Now that the first shock passed, all he felt was  _full_  – wonderfully so, and aching for Kurt to move. When he twitched his hips a little though, his husband shook his head, his eyes desperate as he spoke through clenched teeth.

“No! Don’t, or it will be over right now. Fuck, you’re so tight… It’s so intense, just…”

He lowered himself into a kiss and Blaine wound his legs around his waist. Doing so changed the angle between them somehow and pushed Kurt’s cock impossibly deeper, hitting just the right spot, and Blaine arched, groaning as pleasure drowned him for a moment, the feeling of _full_  making it even more intense. Kurt whimpered.

“Fuck, I can’t…”

The drag inside as Kurt pulled out almost entirely and then pushed back in was like nothing Blaine had ever felt, but oh,  _so good_. Above him, Kurt whined and pressed his lips back to Blaine’s, the kiss hungry and desperate. Blaine’s cock got trapped between them, friction from Kurt’s every move rough and perfect, and the world was already disappearing in a whirlwind of sensations.  Several thrusts later nothing else was important but the feelings of touching, dragging, tingling; the sounds of their delight mixing in the air and disappearing, muffled between their lips and tongues, and Kurt was right, it wouldn’t last long at all. One more hard, deep thrust, Kurt’s movements already chaotic, and Blaine couldn’t hold on any more.

The orgasm, so intense it was on the verge of painful, ripped a rough cry out of his mouth and suddenly everything was multiplied, every sensation more intense, more real – the slide of his come between their bodies, the clenching of his hole over the thick, solid shaft inside, the buzzing in his ears and burning in his blood. Finally, the pulsing of Kurt’s cock inside him as he came, his face shocked and frozen, mouth curved over Blaine’s name.

Kurt pulled out and away after much too short a moment and Blaine was left feeling empty and incomplete. After being together like this, the closest they could be, every inch of distance between them felt like too much. Kurt seemed to feel the same, though – he cleaned them both swiftly with a warm soft cloth, just enough to wipe off come and lube, and then returned into Blaine’s waiting arms. They cuddled into each other, as close as possible, skin touching skin everywhere, seeking for  _more_ , for  _closer_. Finally, they settled for a complicated tangle, close enough to satisfy the worst of need to melt together.

Blaine wanted to ask any and all of the cliché questions. Was it good? Did Kurt like it? Would he ever want to do it again? But he stayed silent, partly out of fear that the answers would be not what he wanted so desperately to hear. It was a relief then when Kurt murmured into the skin of his chest.

“Was it at least half as good for you as it was for me?”

Blaine smiled into Kurt’s disheveled hair.

“ _So_   good.” After a beat of hesitation, he dared to ask. “Does it mean we’ll be doing it again?”

“If you said we wouldn’t, you would break my heart a little right now. God, Blaine, what have you done to me? I went into this marriage feeling like a total prude and now I can’t get enough.” His soft laugh tickled Blaine’s chest before he pressed a soft kiss there. “And I love it. I love _you_.”

Sleepiness already shutting his brain off, Blaine managed to mumble “I love you too” before he was dead to the world.


	10. Chapter 10

Being woken up with soft kisses by a happy, beaming husband instead of an alarm clock was enough to render any lingering soreness unimportant, and after breakfast in bed and showering together Blaine was pretty sure this was one of the best days he could dream of. Soon, it got even better.

They ran into their first class just before the final bell, winded and giggling, and fell into their chairs, and Blaine winced –  _too fast, too hard_ , his body reminded him. Kurt was looking at him with a concerned expression, making sure he was okay, when an incredulous voice came from behind them.

“Oh you’ve  _got_  to be  _kidding_  me! Hummel’s a  _top_? No way!”

Karofsky. Standing right there, gaping at them with his mouth open like a fish, and Blaine knew very well what he saw. He’d seen it himself not half an hour ago, when they were standing together in front of the bathroom mirror, hastily preparing to go: the hickeys fresh and clear on his neck, Kurt’s mussed hair that he hadn’t had time to style, their lips kiss-red and puffed, the bite mark on Kurt’s forearm, uncovered in his short-sleeved shirt. Everything about them screamed  _sex_.

And Kurt, wonderful, sexy Kurt, instead of curling in on himself like he usually did when facing Karofsky, just smirked now and said calmly.

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know! Sorry, Dave, this ship has sailed.”

And with a dismissing shrug, he turned to say good morning to their teacher who was just settling at her desk. Blaine had never been more proud of him.

 

Kurt’s 18th birthday came and went the following week, celebrated with a great party and even greater sex afterwards, and though Blaine half expected police to come and take them away to be questioned about consummation, no one did. Karofsky didn’t come to school on Tuesday and when he returned three days later, it was with a band on his finger, without his piercings and leather jacket and somewhat quieter, more distant. Rumor had it his new husband was older than him and pretty rich, but no one knew much. Blaine didn’t care. He was just happy that they were finally free of the bully.

 

Two weekends later they were spending Saturday morning in bed, reading, when Kurt nuzzled Blaine’s shoulder with his nose.

“Hey, I’d like to try something.”

“Like what?” Blaine put away his book, intrigued. Kurt opened the book he was reading –  _Loving Sex_  – on a bookmarked page, and Blaine grinned, looking at the picture.

“You want me to try bottoming from the top?”

Kurt shook his head.

“No. I want  _me_  to try bottoming from the top.”

It took a while until Blaine wrapped his mind around what he’d just heard and became coherent again. Kurt waited patiently. Finally, still not quite believing it could be true, Blaine asked.

“Are you-“

“Yes, I’m sure.” Kurt answered before the question was even out and Blaine breathed deeply. Of course he was; he wouldn’t start this conversation if he wasn’t. So it meant… this would happen. Just…

“When?”

“How about now?” Even though he half-expected this answer, Blaine could feel his heart hammer faster. His cock, half-hard since Kurt showed him the book, reacted enthusiastically.

“You know it’s not the easiest position for the first time though?”

Kurt nodded with a calm smile.

“I know. We’ve used the same sources, remember? But I’m still afraid of the pain; I want this, but I need to have control over the speed with which I take you in.” Blaine groaned as his imagination did a little flip. “You’ll just have to prepare me really, really well.”

Okay,  _little flip_  didn’t cover it anymore; it was a real flood of images, hopes, anticipation. He drew a shuddering breath.

“Okay.”

And with that, they were rolling and falling into each other in the way that was already so perfectly familiar and so welcome every single time, with hands sliding and caressing over planes and muscles and arches; with lips following invisible paths of pleasure to the accompaniment of sharp inhalations, quiet moans and words of love and adoration.

Except this time they didn’t end up shuddering against each other with hips grinding and stuttering, or with hands stroking in a matching rhythm, guiding each other to completion. Neither did one of them found his way with worshipping lips to the other’s cock, teasing and fighting his own limitations while trying to find the perfect suction and depth, with a hand stroking and tongue dancing and swirling. Blaine didn’t strip himself open and vulnerable this time, leaving behind any shame and self-consciousness and waiting for his husband to take him, fill him, make them one.

No. This time was all about awe and delight as he lay between Kurt’s legs, parted and drawn up, and took his time laving the skin on his balls and the soft light hair there with his tongue, diving low, even lower, his heart stuttering at his daring as he passed the bit of soft skin behind and went further. The tip of his tongue was the first to meet the puckered entrance and Blaine moaned, the softness of delicate skin, the taste, the scent of aloe and deep underneath, just Kurt, playing on his senses, making him even harder, wanting.

Kurt was writhing and begging already, sensitive as always, and it never stopped amazing Blaine how vocal his husband was, how breathtakingly responsive. And then, with a final flick of his tongue and a kiss, he pulled away and there it was, the perfect pink asterisk of Kurt’s asshole, all for Blaine to see, so close, slick and shiny, tempting him to touch and tease.

So touch and tease he did, with a quick detour to cover his fingers with lube; smoothing and stroking, over and around and again until Kurt groaned and basically pushed himself on Blaine’s index finger, his soft cry all pleasure, not discomfort. It felt tight, so incredibly tight and hot and velvety smooth inside, and Blaine had to bite his lip to distract himself from imagining just how perfect it would feel around his cock if merely sliding his finger in and out of Kurt’s ass made him ready to come on the spot.

Another finger went in soon after and Blaine was able to focus on two things only – breathing and his fingers, stroking, stretching, exploring until Kurt’s reaction let him know that he found what he’d been searching for. Satisfied, he crooked his fingers again, and once more, and then it was unexpectedly over when Kurt came, arching off the bed, his lips open in a silent cry and his cock untouched, and Blaine couldn’t help himself. The clenching feeling over his fingers, still deep in his husband’s beautiful pink hole, was more than enough to push him over the edge with the barest touch of his hand.

 

They came down panting and wide-eyed, and Blaine eased his fingers out and went to bring a warm washcloth to clean them up, unsure and hoping it wouldn’t be the end of their plans. Kurt actually laughed when he asked.

“Oh, no – we’re going on. And believe me, you will be actually glad you just came. That way we have a chance for it to last any reasonable amount of time – as it should, because I intend to thoroughly test if I’m a fan.”

Being healthy, hormonal 18-year-olds turned out to be a blessing, because after mere minutes of kisses and touches they were both more than ready to continue and soon there were fingers sliding in again, muscles stretching and yielding and relaxing, more moans and pleads, and finally Kurt decided he couldn’t wait any longer. Blaine’s heart pounded hard and fast. This was it.

They switched positions. There was one more moment of tense anticipation when Blaine rolled the condom on his cock and slathered it liberally with lube, and then Kurt straddled his hips, aligning himself properly with his husband’s help. His breath was coming fast and shallow and beyond the feverish glint of arousal, there was fear visible in his greenish eyes and trembling fingers. Blaine reached his free hand to grab Kurt’s.

“Hey, we can stop any time you want to.” Kurt shook his head immediately. “I’ve got you, okay? Look at me, keep looking. It’s going to be fine.”

With a final deep breath, Kurt lowered himself gingerly. Ever so slowly, his eyes never leaving Blaine’s, his hand squeezing hard, he sunk over an inch or so before he tensed visibly and Blaine soothed.

“Breathe, love. Relax, it will pass, I promise.” Kurt nodded stiffly; after a moment of slow, deep breathing, he started moving his hips again – swaying them minutely, circling, sliding up and down, just millimeters at a time, and Blaine really  _was_  glad that he’d come just moments ago. The tight pressure was unbelievable, the beauty of his husband above him breathtaking.

It took a while, but then he was all the way in and Kurt was straddling his hips properly, ramrod-straight and shocked, breathing fast. Something wasn’t right though, Blaine was certain of it as he saw tears glimmer in his husband’s eyes, and he gripped his hand tighter.

“Kurt, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Do you want to stop?”

Kurt laughed through tears, the sound choked up and wet.

“No, it’s good, it’s  _perfect_ , just… I need you closer, so much closer, need to kiss you right now and I hadn’t thought about it before –  _how_  can I do this like this?” 

Blaine breathed with relief, the adrenaline surge fueling inspiration. He sat up slowly.

“Put your legs around me.”

Kurt did as he was told and Blaine crossed his own; some adjustments here and there and a moment later he had Kurt in his lap as they were sitting chest to chest, arms around each other and lips kissing slowly, cherishing the moment. The first orgasms had left them mostly sated and now there was no rush anymore, no hurrying or quick thrusts or impatient fingers. It was just this moment and all the time in the world, it was the present and the future waiting for them, it was here and now, and them – Kurt and Blaine.

Kissing and touching with gentle fingers. Rocking slowly into each other. Sighs and breaths and tender words between them. Love and desire, delight and infinite trust. They had each other, and love, and forever. It was all they could dream of.

THE END


	11. One-shot sequel: 5 years later

The world was changing.

Human rights movements and new liberal voices in the government had been growing louder, and then suddenly the time was right, and everything avalanched into a wave of change that swept through the country, wiping out the old, restrictive order. Kurt and Blaine hadn’t marched in the demonstrations, or written angry letters demanding new laws, but they looked forward to the change.

They were the lucky ones, they knew. Despite the heartless regulations, they’d managed to end up with their perfect matches and build a happy, thriving relationship. But there were so many others that had been hurt by the system and were still suffering the consequences every day. It was only fair they should be given a chance to find their own happiness, too.

The five years since Kurt and Blaine had gotten married had been a busy time filled with both joys and challenges: High school graduation and college in Columbus, the furthest they were allowed to move. Discovering the city together and learning to live with separate schedules and separate friends, after years of doing everything together. Coming home to each other every evening, to  _welcome home_ kisses, and  _I missed you_ ’s, and to telling each other about their respective days as they made dinner together. First exams and sleepless nights spent over books, and first arguments born from exhaustion and crankiness, resolved quickly and apologized for with tender kisses and frantic make-up sex. College graduations and first jobs. Talks about adoption.

They had been so happy.

And now, today, everything could end.

 

The room at the Equality Center was white and clinical, the woman sitting at the other side of the empty desk not much older than Kurt. There was a rainbow tattoo around her ring finger – uncovered, indicating she was a lesbian and not married. It would have been unthinkable in anyone over 18 even just a few years ago, which meant the her marriage must have been among those nullified in the first wave of changes that had swept through their society within the last year.

In that first phase, the newly founded Ministry of Equality had only dealt with voluntary petitions to dissolve the obligatory gay marriages – petitions that started flowing in en masse as soon as the possibility occurred. They’d had their hands full for months. Now, phase two had started: reviewing marriage certificates of the couples who hadn’t mutually agreed to send in a petition.

The thought behind the plan was good, Kurt admitted – there were surely plenty of couples where only one side hoped to be freed from the enforced marital “bliss”, and didn’t dare apply behind the partner’s back. But these were mostly claim couples. What annoyed Kurt was that anyone could think he and Blaine counted as one of them.

The woman tossed a heavy blond braid over her shoulder and smiled at Kurt brightly, friendliness personified.

"Let’s cut right to the chase, Mr. Hummel,” she said in a forcefully cheerful voice. “Do you want to request a dissolution of your union with Mr. Blaine Anderson?"

"Our name is Anderson-Hummel; I thought you would have basic information like this in your file,” Kurt snapped. “And no, I don't."

The woman’s chipper expression remained unchanged. "Why is that?" she asked, her tone curious.

"Because I'm a happily married man."

Kurt wished he had a pen with him, or a coffee stirrer, anything he could play with. The clean empty expanse of the desk was messing with his head, but he made himself sit perfectly still. He wouldn’t show his nerves.

"Weren’t you forced to get married though?" The woman frowned. Kurt would feel better if he knew her name. His mind was weirdly hung up on trying to guess what name would fit her best, and it was distracting.

"I was forced to get married sooner than I was ready," he said carefully.

These interview rooms were rumored to be equipped with hidden cameras that caught and analyzed every sign of lying, he heard. Some said the Center interviewers were trained to read through body language and inflection changes, too. Kurt didn’t want to risk triggering suspicions by saying there’d been nothing forced in marrying Blaine, when he knew perfectly well that wasn’t the truth. But he’d be damned if he explained all the nuances of what he felt about it here. He did nothing wrong; he shouldn’t have to justify himself.

The woman tilted her head. "So you believe that you would have gotten married to Mr. Anderson anyway, if you had a say in this matter?"

"I do."

She looked confused. "But according to our information, you and Mr. Anderson had never been together before the wedding."

"No."

"And yet you think you would have ended married? I don't think I understand."

"We’d been best friends for years before the wedding,” Kurt explained, trying to reign in his impatience. He’d promised Blaine he would do his best to stay calm. “And I believe that if we'd been free to grow up properly before thinking of marriage, and to do it all at our own pace, we would have found our way to each other sooner or later."

"But as it was, this marriage wasn't your own, free choice at that moment," the woman stated pointedly.

Kurt gritted his teeth. Was she dumb? "At  _that_  moment, no, it wasn't. I had never had a boyfriend. Marriage wasn’t my choice at all then."

"Thank you, that's what I wanted to know.” She nodded, clearly satisfied. “Now, tell me about your sex life, please. How often do you engage in sexual activity? Who usually initiates it? What would you say your sexual satisfaction level is, overall?"

"I'd say that it's none of your business," Kurt retorted.

"I'm sensing frustration here, Mr. Hummel," the woman commented calmly. She still had that annoying smile on her face, as if this whole absurd interview was fun for her. Kurt wanted to yell at her, or shove his chair away from the desk and storm out, but he couldn’t. Not if he wanted his marriage untouched.

"Anderson-Hummel,” he forced through his clenched teeth. “And what you're sensing is a deep-seated sense of privacy. I see no reason to discuss my sex life with anyone but my husband."

"Fine. Then just answer this one question, please, and I will leave the topic alone: have you ever been forced to have sex?” When Kurt hesitated, she added, “Please remember that you’re obliged to only tell the truth here."

"... yes." The word was too big in his throat, choking.

"I understand, thank you."

"No, I don't think you do,” Kurt hurried to add. “I was forced by the system, under the threat of marriage annulment, to start my sex life earlier and at a faster pace than I was ready for. I have never been forced to do anything I didn't want by my husband."

"These two statements seem contradictory."

"Well, they aren't." Kurt crossed his arms over his chest.

The woman arched her eyebrow. "Okay, if you say so. Could you tell me what your usual day looks like?"

Kurt took a calming breath. He was getting too worked up; it wouldn’t work in his favor. Thankfully, this question was easy at least.

“I get up around nine. Blaine is already at work, so I eat the breakfast he left me and spend two hours learning lines, answering emails, managing my official site and doing other things that need to be done. I leave for the theater at noon. Typically, I’m in rehearsals until six, have early dinner with my husband if we’re both free, and then, six nights out of the week, I do the show. When I get back home, we spend an hour or two together, and then we go to bed.”

He rattled the plan quickly, with a feeling like he was saying something right at last, so the look on the interviewer’s face surprised him. She seemed taken aback.

“That doesn’t sound like a lot of time together. When do you have time for any chores, shopping, entertainment? Even just visiting family or meeting friends?”

“We make it work,” Kurt said defensively. “Blaine works shorter hours as a teacher, so he does most of the chores, and we make the most we can of our shared free time.”

There hadn’t been much of that in the last year, he had to admit, but how was he supposed to explain to this woman all about paying his dues and working his ass off so that he could get better roles and wider recognition? He was almost there now. If he got recruited by one of the bigger theaters soon like he hoped, they could start saving money for a house.

The woman didn’t comment. "When you imagine your life in five years, what do you see?" she asked instead. She was no longer smiling. Somehow now that she stopped, Kurt wished she hadn’t. The unnerving smile had been better than the pitying look she had in her eyes now.

He turned his focus back to the question rather than overanalyzing again. “I hope to be out of Ohio by then, preferably in New York, and employed at a respectable theater, with at least two major leads under my belt. Hopefully some awards, too. I may be looking into starring in a movie, and I would definitely want to try my hand at directing, but that may be more of a ten-year perspective.”

“All you mentioned are professional developments, Mr. Hummel,” the interviewer said drily. “Where do you see yourself in your private life?”

“Right where I am. Happy with Blaine, hopefully with a child or two by our side. A house in the suburbs somewhere. Maybe a dog.”

“How are you expecting to achieve everything you’ve described professionally with young children at home?”

Kurt realized he was tapping his foot and made himself stop. “Blaine is going to stay at home for the first few years, until the kids are old enough for kindergarten,” he said. “I hope to be making enough by then to ensure financial stability with a single income.”

“What does your husband think about it?” The woman’s tone was getting noticeably cooler.

Her barely hidden judgment made Kurt’s temper flare. “What do you think?” he snapped. “I obviously haven’t made a decision like this by myself.”

“Do you think it’s in your husband’s best interest, though?”

“I think it’s in our family’s best interest.”

She shook her head. “I believe healthy balance is what’s in a family’s best interest, Mr. Hummel. If you don’t have time for children, you simply shouldn’t decide to have them. Now, one last question. What do you think your life would be like without Mr. Anderson in it?”

Kurt tried to imagine living without Blaine – without his soothing words and his warm laughter, without his strength that made Kurt feel safe and the tenderness in his every touch. Without the love that filled Kurt so surely, so completely, like he’d never imagined back before Blaine.

“It would be empty,” he said softly. “Filled with even more work, pushing for more even faster, but still empty.”

The woman nodded and got up from her chair. “Thank you, Mr. Hummel. Please move to the private waiting room outside this door. Mr. Anderson’s interview should be over soon, too. We’ll be with you shortly to discuss our decision.”

 

The gray-haired man across the desk exuded the air of calm confidence that immediately made Blaine feel more at ease. They would fix this whole mix-up now, and everything would be alright. Despite the soothing façade Blaine had kept for the three days to counter Kurt’s anxiety, he’d been more than a little afraid of what this interview could mean for them. Now, the peaceful surroundings of the simple room and the professional demeanor of the interviewer suddenly made his worries seem silly.

The man folded his hands over the empty desk before him and looked at Blaine with blue eyes that made him look like a caring father.

"Mr. Anderson, do you want to request a dissolution of your marriage to Mr. Kurt Hummel?" he asked in a pleasant voice.

Blaine shook his head fervently. "God no. And I’m sorry, you've got it wrong. It's Anderson-Hummel. In both cases."

The man nodded. "Okay, Mr. Anderson-Hummel. So you want to stay married, despite the fact that your marriage was the result of an old, cruel law?"

"Of course I do. May I ask why we are even here? I thought only claim marriages are being reevaluated."

"We have to make sure no one gets overlooked as we work to right the wrongs of the old laws,” the man explained kindly. “According to our data, your marriage wasn't far from a claim. You hadn’t been in a relationship with your future husband prior to the wedding, and he proposed just days before your birthday to escape a potential claim he didn't want, isn't that right?"

"How do you even know that?" Blaine asked, amazed.

"We have our sources,” the interviewer said. “Considering that yours was clearly a marriage of convenience, we saw it necessary to invite you for an evaluation. So are you sure you don't want to reconsider your answer? Remember that anything you say here is private and won’t be disclosed to your husband. You have a chance now to make your own choices and find happiness with whoever you want, don't you want that?"

Blaine put his chin on his folded hands and looked at the man, willing him to understand. "I don't have to look anywhere, though. Kurt is the person I love most in the world, why would I want to be apart from him? The law that led to our marriage was wrong and cruel, yes, but what it gave us is perfect."

"But you didn't choose the person you got married to."

"I did. I chose Kurt. I wanted him. I was the happiest man on earth when he proposed; I have been the happiest man on earth ever since that day. We're perfect together, please don't change that," he pleaded.

The man hummed thoughtfully. “Alright, Mr. Anderson-Hummel. How would you describe your intimate life?"

"Amazing. Happy. Fulfilling. I couldn't think of a better lover than my husband,” Blaine gushed, then caught himself. “Um... is this too much? I’m sorry, I’m not sure how open you want me to be."

“That’s quite alright. I get it. So you were never forced to perform sexually, perhaps? Or felt like your needs were being neglected?”

“No,” Blaine said firmly. “I mean, Kurt works a lot, so often he doesn’t have the energy for sex when he gets home at night, or isn’t in the mood. But when we do have sex, it’s fantastic. It always has been.”

“That’s good,” the man nodded. “Now, could you tell me about your typical day?”

“Of course. I get up at half past six. I’m a teacher, so I start work early,” he explained, in case the interviewer didn’t know. “I shower, make breakfast for myself and Kurt and put his in the fridge, and then I leave for school. I’m usually back home by three. I do any household chores that need to be done, and make dinner. Kurt comes home at six, we eat together, and then he leaves again for his show – he’s an actor, and a really talented one, you know. I clean up, and then do any grading I have for the day, or read, or watch something, waiting for him to return around eleven. We have an hour together, and then it’s time for me to go to bed. Kurt stays up longer, winding down after the show.”

“It seems like you do everything around the house by yourself. Has it always been this way? Doesn’t your husband help at all?” the interviewer asked, and Blaine rushed to reply.

“Oh, no – Kurt loves doing things around the house, cooking, all that. When we first got married, I used to joke that I’m living with a regular Martha Stewart. But since he started working at the theater, he’s exceedingly busy; he usually performs in one play while rehearsing for another. He’s always learning lines, going for auditions, and when he comes home, he’s exhausted. I happily took over the household chores to lighten the load for him.”

The man frowned. “And is it a permanent solution? If you think of your life in five years, do you see yourself still happily waiting at home while your husband conquers the world?”

“In five years I hope to be a stay-at-home father of at least one, and preferably two kids,” Blaine said solemnly. Saying it out loud gave him happy tingles again. They’d been talking about adopting for the last two years, but only now, after five years of marriage, they would be allowed to apply. They couldn’t wait.

“What about your husband?” the interviewer asked.

“Kurt’s career has more potential for growth, and he should be able to support our family on his own as soon as he gets into a bigger theater,” Blaine explained. “Plus, he loves his job, so we decided it’s the best option for us if I stay at home with the kids. I’m happy to do it.”

“Don’t you like your job, too?”

“I do. I love working with the first-graders and being the one to show them the magic of reading, to teach them to count and show them how the world works. But getting to do that with our own kids, and to be with them from the very beginning is even better. I’m so excited about it, I’m already reading books about early development and stimulating activities for infants. Recently, I saw this cute onesie in the store; I just had to take a picture and send it to Kurt.” Blaine grinned, remembering. “I seriously can’t wait.”

“How did your husband react to the picture?” the interviewer asked lightly.

“He… well, he had his phone off on that particular day, but he was very excited when he came home that night.”

Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t have recalled that particular experience. It had been a bad day for Kurt, after he’d been rejected in the last round of auditions for a lead he really wanted. Talking about kids and cute clothes had been the last thing he’d wanted that night. He hadn’t even commented on the photo until Blaine had asked him a few days later.

A disappointed expression ran over the man’s face, making Blaine’s heart fall, but it was gone in a second.

“Our file says that you were appointed a psychiatrist four years ago, and have been repeatedly issued anxiety medication. Could you tell me about that?”

Blaine’s eyes widened. “Oh, that was nothing. It just turned out I wasn’t dealing well with the stress of college, that’s all. Every test and exam made me really nervous and it affected my grades, so the doctor decided I should take medication when needed until I learned effective ways of relaxation instead. It had nothing to do with my marriage.”

“And yet you’ve been prescribed another refill just eight months ago. Do you still take the medication?” The reassuring look on the man’s face was gone now. He looked strict, like a disappointed parent, and Blaine’s heart sped up.

“I–” he stuttered.

“Please don’t lie.”

“I only took it a few times in the last year. Before job interviews, mostly. And last night, because I couldn’t sleep. It’s worn off by now, though, I promise. I know we’re not supposed to be under the influence of any mind-altering substances for the interview.”

Blaine could feel how very much the drugs were no longer affecting him, in fact. The calm and positive outlook from the beginning of the interview was gone now, leaving him shaking internally, with a feeling like a vice was closing around his chest. He took a few slow, shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down like the psychiatrist taught him.

The interviewer hummed again. He didn’t seem convinced. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all.

“Okay, one last question, Mr. Anderson-Hummel. What do you think your life would have been like if you hadn’t married your husband five years ago?”

The internal shaking had spread to the outside now, and Blaine hid his hands under the table to conceal his fingers trembling, but his rapid, shallow breathing was giving him away, he was sure. Life without Kurt. He couldn’t even think about it, not when he’d spent the last three days terrified of just that.

“I… I don’t know,” he managed, his voice choked. “I’m sorry, I just… I can’t.” He stood up too quickly, the white, windowless room suddenly suffocating. He needed air.

The man got up, too. “Okay, we’re done here. Please stay in the waiting room until we come back with our decision,” he said, not unkindly.

Blaine was stumbling out the door before the man finished talking. The sight of Kurt pacing the large, comfortably furnished waiting room had him almost run into his husband’s arms, a relieved sob catching in his throat.

“Kurt.”

 

Two doors away, in a large office equipped with a row of computers and cabinet upon cabinet of files, the two interviewers sat at a table, cups of steaming coffee between them.

“Alright, you first, Natalie,” the man said. “What have you got?”

The young woman sat up straighter. It was only her third case, and she wanted to impress her instructor, show her commitment. It was such an honor to be allowed to work for the Ministry of Equality, to help other suffering couples the way she had been helped.

“Mine was very clearly a workaholic,” she started, remembering the handsome, but cold, man from her interview. “Short-tempered, snappy and impatient, and focused on nothing but his acting career. When I asked him about the future, he didn’t mention his family at all until I prompted him. Not interested in nullifying the marriage, and no wonder – he seems to be treating his husband like a free servant who does everything around the house for him. There’s no abuse though, as far as I can tell, at least not physical,” she concluded. In that, at least, this marriage was different from her own.

The man, whom she still hadn’t gotten used to calling by his name, John, nodded solemnly. “Did he mention children?”

“He did, but I got an impression he only wants them because it’s expected, or maybe to rope his husband in tighter. There was no emotion that I could read off him as he talked about adding to the family, other than irritation.” She paused to consider if there was anything to add. There wasn’t. “Do you want to see the tape to verify my findings?” she asked. They had reviewed the recordings together for the first two couples.

John shook his head. “I don’t think that’s necessary. What you said fits into my observations, too.” He hummed, lost in thought for a moment, and Natalie sipped her coffee and waited patiently until he continued. “Yes, I agree with you about the no abuse conclusion. And they do have a particular division of responsibilities between the two of them–”

“You mean, pushing all chores on one person while the other comes and goes as he pleases, not lifting a finger to help?” she asked bitterly.

“Now, now,” John admonished. “Remember that some couples choose such dynamics consciously because it’s something that fits them – both of them – temporarily or even permanently. It is not our place to judge that. I haven’t heard anything that would suggest Mr. Anderson is unhappy with such division of chores in their marriage. There is, however, something that bothers me. A couple of things, actually.” He paused to drink some of his coffee before speaking on. “First of all, he lied. About a trivial thing, really, but when they try to cover up little problems, it’s usually a sign there are much bigger ones we’re not seeing, too. Plus, he’s been taking anxiety medication consistently since not long after they got married, and when I asked him about it, he got defensive. That, together with the husband’s frequent absences and Mr. Anderson’s strong desire to have children makes me wonder whether he’s looking to compensate for an unsatisfying relationship by becoming a parent. That wouldn’t be good, of course.”

“So what are you suggesting? Do we split them?” Natalie asked.

“What would you do?” John asked mildly, ever the teacher.

“Split,” Natalie answered immediately. “The marriage seems unbalanced and unhealthy, and it’s not fair to Mr. Anderson, whether he realizes it or not. He can find someone better, I’m sure.”

“But they don’t want to split,” John reminded her. “They both refused the dissolution. That counts, too. Although I agree there are some problems I’m seeing here. I would suggest separation. Six months, then reevaluation and proceeding as needed. Although–”

Natalie, who was already half-up, sat down again. “Although?”

John rubbed his chin. “I don’t know, there’s just something… A feeling really, and we don’t work on feelings, but–” He paused again, then picked up a remote. “Let’s have a glimpse of them together before we decide.” He switched on the screen mounted on the wall at the end of the table.

The two men were sitting side by side on the little red sofa, unaware of being watched. Mr. Hummel’s face looked closed-off, but his arm was around his husband’s waist. Mr. Anderson had his face hidden on his husband’s shoulder.

“Let’s see what happened earlier,” John said and rewound the recording to the moment of the couple’s reconnection. He turned up the volume to hear what the microphones tucked around the room caught of their conversation.

At first there was no conversation to be heard, though. From the moment Mr. Anderson sprang out of the interview room, the two men just stood holding each other tightly for over a minute before they stepped back, still holding hands.

“Do you think they know they’re being recorded?” Natalie asked quietly, as if they could hear her.

“I doubt that,” John said. “They fully expect cameras in the interview rooms, but the waiting room is deliberately set to look safe and inviting, a place to relax after the stress. Most of them drop any masks there. Now shh.”

Mr. Hummel put a hand on his husband’s cheek, his brow furrowed. “How did it go? You seem shaken.”

Mr. Anderson shook his head. “I think I blew it. I got nervous and–”

“Are you alright?” Mr. Hummel hurried to ask. He sounded concerned, no cool mask on his face now.

“I’m fine. Just, what if I ruined it? What if they decide we’re wrong for each other? How can they even tell based on a few short questions?” Mr. Anderson took a shaky breath and squeezed his husband’s hand. “Please tell me yours went better.”

Mr. Hummel shook his head, his eyes cast down. “I don’t think she liked me. And you know how I get when I feel judged.”

John arched his eyebrow at Natalie, who blushed darkly. She had a lot to learn still, didn’t she?

There was a moment of silence, and then Mr. Anderson asked softly, “What do we do now? What if they want to end our marriage? Can we appeal the decision?”

Mr. Hummel shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of anyone doing it.”

Natalie looked at John, who nodded, “They could. It’s rarely done, but it’s allowed.”

On the screen, Blaine was biting his lip. “Kurt… What do we  _do_?”

Kurt – Mr. Hummel – lay a hand on his husband’s chest, over his heart, in a tender gesture. “For now, we wait, and hope they can recognize soulmates when they see them,” he said in a soothing voice. “And if they don’t… hey, they can’t keep us apart. The law says we can interact freely with whoever we want now, and start any relationships we choose. And I will always choose you. They can’t even force us to live separately, Blaine. Even if the worst happens, it won’t change that much.”

Blaine sighed. “I know. But not being married to you… I can’t imagine it.”

“We could just get married again.”

“Not until three years after the annulment,” Blaine whined. “And what about kids? No one will let us adopt if there’s a Ministry-ordered dissolution on our record.”

A painful frown ran through Kurt’s face. “I know, love. But laws change all the time. Maybe in a few years it will be different. Or maybe we’ll be able to use a surrogate, like other countries allow. We’ll make it work, baby. With or without their blessing, with or without kids, we have each other. No one can take that away.”

They hugged for another long while, two desperate people taking hope from each other’s presence, before they went over to the sofa, still holding hands.   

“What use is having the new laws when we are forced to prove we’re right for each other now?” Blaine asked bitterly when they sat down. “I’m so tired of having things forced upon us. Obligatory marriage at 18. Obligatory sex to confirm consummation. Right to choose but only if someone else says the choice is right. What kind of freedom is this?” He hid his face on Kurt’s shoulder.

John switched off the screen.

“Do you still think we should split them?” he asked with a smile.

Natalie blinked her tearful eyes. “I… No.”

He nodded. “Your lesson for today: when you have even a sliver of doubt, watch the couple together. The way they interact naturally will tell you more than even the most detailed questions do.” He swallowed the rest of his coffee and got up from his chair. “Let’s go tell them.”

Before they left the office, Natalie hesitated. “John… do you think he’s right? Do we take away their freedom when we think we’re giving it to them?”

John’s face turned solemn. “I think there’s still a lot of room for improvement in the new laws, and I think it will take time to get it all right. For now, we just have to do the best we can, one person and one couple at a time.” He smiled again. “Now, let’s go and relieve them of their uncertainty. I’ll let you give them the good news.” 


End file.
